tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50423446205641404692024-02-20T22:54:22.335-05:00BigIdiotStick~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.comBlogger170125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-1369425377170096652019-01-09T13:30:00.000-05:002019-01-09T13:30:33.028-05:00Baby #2- The Birth Blog- We're Gonna Need A Bigger Net! (Part 3 of 3)
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.com/2019/01/baby-2-birth-blog-who-hell-is-braxton.html" target="_blank">If you have not read Part 1 please do so here</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.com/2019/01/baby-2-birth-blog-two-births-in-two.html" target="_blank">Also, you obviously need to first read Part 2</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In between all of the pumping, contractions, candles, and
tribal music we did manage to get the tub filled and Colleen found herself doing
the no pants dance by 2:30pm in a tub in her living room surrounded by Sabrina,
Kelly, myself, and the secondary/backup midwife Jill who had arrived by this
point. Once Colleen was in the pool her labour/contractions started to slow
down and her pain also decreased. I vaguely recall Sabrina asking her a couple
of times if she had wanted to get out of the water and I am pretty sure that
Colleen stated something to the effect of “I am not getting out of this tub.
Step away, bitch”. So yeah, the water helped with the pain and it appeared to
give my wife who normally only swears at our yappy <strike>sewer rat</strike> dog the ability
to curse like a sailor. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9U4Jk5DfotUUBw0TtqcyC-kUk2VWRGfZlCR0Dwa-SFT5N2lMkAxSXqxKrTTjnT-WzjQKUi3wCOOyTamC8vBq04AmzdH8Vn7F3Emm4TW0kN0Q6ZdkgczaSirspsw4YfeAZQ7049D5sCMGe/s1600/49792234_273494050001836_7259224638457118720_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9U4Jk5DfotUUBw0TtqcyC-kUk2VWRGfZlCR0Dwa-SFT5N2lMkAxSXqxKrTTjnT-WzjQKUi3wCOOyTamC8vBq04AmzdH8Vn7F3Emm4TW0kN0Q6ZdkgczaSirspsw4YfeAZQ7049D5sCMGe/s320/49792234_273494050001836_7259224638457118720_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tough job being the "supporting partner". Just throw out a generic "you're doing great honey" every so often and you're covered.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With labour/contractions going full bore, somewhere along
the way (as is customary) in our births Colleen’s bowels let loose in the tub and
it was time for Pump Boy to put on his second hat and turn into “<a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/4154745/dog-poop-all-over-your-yard-theres-a-guy-for-that/" target="_blank">Poop Scoop Boy</a>”….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Background Update: A
couple of weeks prior to this date when we were assembling our “birthing kit” I
had been tasked with purchasing a poop net. A poop net is really just a little
net that you use when you need to scoop out dead fish from your aquarium. On a
trip to Wal-Mart I purchased the only net I could find that looked like it
might, just might, be big enough to scoop up a tadpole. When I had arrived home with
this Colleen insisted that I needed to buy a bigger net, which turned out to be
a brilliant decision. As instructed, a few days prior to the birth I visited an
actual pet store and bought a slightly larger net. I really wanted to scare the
cashier and tell her what the net was for, but alas my dog has had his haircut
at this facility and I did not want to be labelled as “the guy who buys nets
for human excrement from the pet store”.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">….Anyways, getting back on track, I quickly used my
regulation size poop-scooping net and swung into action. Having been a veteran
of this type of work, I found that my form was much improved from the last time
and the water quality and clarity was not far off from your average YMCA during
a parent-and-tot swim listen. I have now added Pump Boy and Poop Scoop Boy to
my resume in case you were wondering. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometime around 4:00pm my mother-in-law showed up to get our
daughter up from her nap (happening one floor up) and she wisely escorted her out of the house on an
excursion. I imagine if Squishy had walked into the basement and heard those
screams she would never let Colleen tuck her in again. Thankfully, my
mother-in-law and daughter got out when they did because by 4:35pm Colleen’s
water broke.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">From this point on things progressed in a hurry. I remember
Sabrina and Kelly telling Colleen to just do little pushes because they wanted
to “slow things down”. Colleen’s reply: “SPEAK FOR YOURSELF”! The midwives
followed up by telling her that they wanted to limit the damage (see: tearing)
to which Colleen replied “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT”. Yes, the beast was officially
awoken! Somewhere around this time, Colleen also decided to bite my arm
attempting to power through the pain, but alas, I was too terrified to say
anything. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Within 5 minutes of her water breaking, the baby’s head was
starting to emerge and Colleen in all of her delirious pain decided that she
now wanted to raise her bottom half out of the water. The ever calm and awesome
midwives gently instructed her to keep her ass in the water as once the baby is
partially exposed you cannot go back in the water with her at that point
(science lesson for another day). They managed to keep Colleen’s caboose in the
water and before we knew it the baby’s shoulders were out and then BAM(!) there
she was, our beautiful new blonde baby daughter, Emerson Rose Moreau aka Emmy aka Squishy Jr.! If we
ever go to sell our home, I imagine the two home births can only serve to drive
up the value.</span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5LGsEwnZEkNK1_JapFZFt55ND_hNb8Qb3eOn6-bHl__pbqL11_Tt90ck8j9t5t1Ma1VlMllZIYQyCmXO-wLpwyvGmOrWtVP8SGZxWIvtEKPvXVOd12233m80dV_girsYd6it7ALXNUzd/s1600/49547412_1024785797728759_596521977607356416_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5LGsEwnZEkNK1_JapFZFt55ND_hNb8Qb3eOn6-bHl__pbqL11_Tt90ck8j9t5t1Ma1VlMllZIYQyCmXO-wLpwyvGmOrWtVP8SGZxWIvtEKPvXVOd12233m80dV_girsYd6it7ALXNUzd/s320/49547412_1024785797728759_596521977607356416_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No words needed here.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The most pressing issue when Emerson was born was ordering a
paternity test. I mean, shit I look like <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2018/sep/18/sesame-street-bert-and-ernie-remain-puppets-and-do-not-have-a-sexual-orientation" target="_blank">Bert and Ernie’s gay love child</a> and
our first daughter was born with black hair and <a href="https://www.gq.com/story/whose-brows-wore-it-better-eugene-levy-vs-his-son" target="_blank">Eugene Levy eyebrows</a> and then
out comes the whitest, blonde-haired, fair-skinned baby ever. However, once I
heard that shrill cry I knew she was our daughter!</span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIIZEjdZB7uAqd8c5Lwi6bBLax3Fj-4UvT1dbcHX4d2mX9WeubMebwWQJmN_I9075s7V0zUlWI8uSpA00RSODiWpSm0B3KnY-KWoEmlkCL8ndC65pJoQUaCt9Id-9n5-EtrtPkGyplf0K/s1600/49519746_333348177262677_3737280782050263040_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIIZEjdZB7uAqd8c5Lwi6bBLax3Fj-4UvT1dbcHX4d2mX9WeubMebwWQJmN_I9075s7V0zUlWI8uSpA00RSODiWpSm0B3KnY-KWoEmlkCL8ndC65pJoQUaCt9Id-9n5-EtrtPkGyplf0K/s320/49519746_333348177262677_3737280782050263040_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took Grade 10 science. Pretty sure that qualifies me to do this medical procedure.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Obviously, it goes without saying that we were ecstatic and
love our daughter more than I could ever convey in a blog. Life has been crazy
since that time. Emerson is now almost three months old, Squishy has
turned out to be an amazing big sister and Colleen and I are still alive. Yes,
parenthood is phenomenal. Sleepless nights, crying children, poo-splosions,
temper tantrums, cracked nipples (mine are just due to dry skin). What more
could one want? What was my life like before this? </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9ZMf0tz83teiuu-_0HAXGrvS1C7YOwxSLKINdpFBz_h_ngjdftmKQPfoZ0as6-g9yu-Vv0fz9XNuIZJfr2T5dGLDLomVDPGM00UxDRUwUFYfqYlIBNj-g6d5RBGScmZe8O_L8WSUTDd_/s1600/49397672_355523538610309_5872337285776670720_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9ZMf0tz83teiuu-_0HAXGrvS1C7YOwxSLKINdpFBz_h_ngjdftmKQPfoZ0as6-g9yu-Vv0fz9XNuIZJfr2T5dGLDLomVDPGM00UxDRUwUFYfqYlIBNj-g6d5RBGScmZe8O_L8WSUTDd_/s320/49397672_355523538610309_5872337285776670720_n.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Couple of good looking babes (especially since one just gave birth within the last hour and the other was living inside of her not long before that).</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">P.S. Props to Colleen for being such a strong woman and
powering through this. Two natural births is nothing to sneeze at. Also, she is
a fantastic mother and wife.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">P.P.S. If anyone wants to never sleep again we filmed the
whole thing. <a href="http://theofficestaremachine.com/" target="_blank">It features a few “the Office” style looks at the camera</a> from me,
including during the arm-biting incident. The nightmares provided by watching
this come at no charge.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Until next time, stay classy people and as always I thank you very much for reading. The positive (and dickish) feedback is very much appreciated. Much love,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Brent (and Colleen, Addy aka Squishy, Emmy aka Squish Jr., and Milos the fur-brother)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghT92iBJUYxp46rspNS631cOTJ4WpuCAV-TznB9TS033L8qswplmCKYniQl4L9zv88UWpeBljsogU1Lv7pV_GvsYncsB46Rmi0euZZ0pX3T3tKEEifZpHYX8ijmHQ86Oll-dY3CQzVCdJB/s1600/49691950_2043594282597528_5235206448220209152_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghT92iBJUYxp46rspNS631cOTJ4WpuCAV-TznB9TS033L8qswplmCKYniQl4L9zv88UWpeBljsogU1Lv7pV_GvsYncsB46Rmi0euZZ0pX3T3tKEEifZpHYX8ijmHQ86Oll-dY3CQzVCdJB/s320/49691950_2043594282597528_5235206448220209152_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best part of not having a creature growing inside of you? It's on the counter!</td></tr>
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~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0Kamloops, BC, Canada50.674522 -120.327267550.352976000000005 -120.97271450000001 50.996068 -119.6818205tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-27935245973564320812019-01-07T12:11:00.000-05:002019-01-07T12:27:00.710-05:00Baby #2- The Birth Blog- Two Births In, Two Major Pool Fails (Part 2 of 3) <br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.com/2019/01/baby-2-birth-blog-who-hell-is-braxton.html" target="_blank">If you haven't read Part 1 you can do so right here</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Upon leaving the hospital around 1:00pm and heading home, we
did not even make it one floor down in the hospital before Colleen started
having contractions. This caused our daughter, Squishy, to become quite
stressed and while she may not be able to form sentences and still craps her
pants, she did understand that her Mommy was in pain. Squishy felt that she
could help her Mommy by rubbing her arm and holding her hand, which was super
cute. Although, I speak from experience when I say that that would probably
only work before so long as shit was about to get real! On the way from the
hospital to our house, the contractions only intensified as did the sound effects
emanating from my wife. Ever the parrot, Squishy took this as her cue to copy
her mother and the next thing I knew I had my wife with her very real
contractions happening in the passenger seat and my toddler in the back seat
letting out equally terrifying sound effects as she mimicked her mother.
Naturally, I took this as my cue to stop at the McDonald’s drive-thru on the
way home because who doesn’t want a little Rotten Ronnie’s if they are going to
be buckling in for a possible afternoon pregnancy?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Once we got home, we quickly put Squishy and her newfound
contraction sound effects down for a nap and gave our doula, Kelly, a call. We
then headed down to the basement where we had set-up the inflatable birthing
pool in the middle of our living room along with candles and other accessories
that made it feel like a cross between <a href="https://www.housebeautiful.com/lifestyle/news/a7275/airbnb-contest-dracula-castle/" target="_blank">Dracula’s castle</a> and a cheap airport
rub-and-tug.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Background update: In
regards to the pool, anyone who is familiar with the first birth story know how
that played out last time and what a fucking disaster it was. This time around,
we made sure that the hoses were hooked up properly (ahead of time) to fill the
tub and that there would be no hiccups. Well, that was the plan at least. The
day prior, Colleen and Kelly had noticed that there was a small hole along one
of the seams in the tub and that it was leaking air. We had brought it to the
attention of Sabrina, our midwife, at the hospital that morning and she stated
that she would try to procure a patch for it. Alas, it did not appear that it
would be too big of an issue as it looked like a really slow leak.</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Anyways, getting back on track…as we got set-up in the
basement reality started to set in pretty quick. Our doula Kelly arrived, and
we were quickly on the phone to our midwife explaining to her that shit was
getting real in a hurry. Sabrina arrived shortly after 2:00pm and by this point
I was already filling the pool with water. Unlike last time, most of the water
was managing to find its way into the pool, although there was that one problem
of the leak. What seemed like a small/insignificant leak with no water or
pressure was quickly escalated by adding water to the tub. In true Moreau
birthing fashion, neither our midwife nor us had a patch kit. As the tub was being
filled and Colleen was screaming/agonizing through her contractions, I
frantically searched for anything that could be used to patch the tub. Not
surprisingly, we all discovered that I am the only male over 18 in the entire world
who does not<a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/hamilton/how-steve-smith-keeps-the-red-green-character-going-duct-tape-and-a-new-book-1.4385610" target="_blank"> own duct tape,</a> and the only patch kit I could find in our garage
was for an inflatable raft and it took 12 hours to properly work. Judging by
the sounds my wife was making, I was not sure we had 12 minutes, let alone 12
hours. All we had in the patch department were some larger Band-Aid’s, which
worked about as well as one might imagine. <span style="font-family: "calibri";">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72OzXt3osJeCNPTes5Nod65aTYSNJGxGDHQYClz43C3i_NfvYg2XxL284FOVdgnSrpHQtR7Apym5DplcQE5ncCQfTB9Oeg8vAa4HwcwRdkfmtsBPs8P8kEkgg_M_NkUuRnfsvynEXsmdL/s1600/coll2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72OzXt3osJeCNPTes5Nod65aTYSNJGxGDHQYClz43C3i_NfvYg2XxL284FOVdgnSrpHQtR7Apym5DplcQE5ncCQfTB9Oeg8vAa4HwcwRdkfmtsBPs8P8kEkgg_M_NkUuRnfsvynEXsmdL/s400/coll2.jpg" width="265" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Husband, Father, Rubber-Armed Pump Boy. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Upon realizing that the pool was not going to stay inflated,
I was quickly given the job of “Pump Boy”. In between contractions and almost
having my arms ripped off by my wife, I was tasked with re-inflating the walls
of the pool with a manual hand pump that qualified as the closest thing to
working out I have done in the last five years. Yes, there was a good chance
that by the time my daughter was born I was not going to be able to hold her
because my noodle arms were too gassed out from pumping up the tub. Around this
time, I probably prayed that this baby came quick because if this was going to
be a long birth there was a good chance that we were going to have to hire a
backup <a href="https://ca.indeed.com/jobs?q=pump+boy&l=british+columbia" target="_blank">“pump boy” on Indeed</a>.</span></span></span></span><br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHsZgaZQzrp57VvzJtfgLTkZM1CTQ15KhyphenhyphennaZGGdj8JHjc0pUTw8Y-5dLrCm0CwtHBcwc2NVN7sO5H4brr1quOYJjk30c9qL4Fj_4r_RBlShGkc73vQ0nK6jwsWtCUWzOpHUA9cak4e1X/s1600/coll1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHsZgaZQzrp57VvzJtfgLTkZM1CTQ15KhyphenhyphennaZGGdj8JHjc0pUTw8Y-5dLrCm0CwtHBcwc2NVN7sO5H4brr1quOYJjk30c9qL4Fj_4r_RBlShGkc73vQ0nK6jwsWtCUWzOpHUA9cak4e1X/s400/coll1.jpg" width="265" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh Man, it's about to get so real! (Or she is thinking about all the sleep she is not going to be having)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><strong>NEXT TIME....PART 3, MY CHILD WHO DOES NOT LOOK LIKE MY CHILD IS BORN!</strong></span></span></span><br /><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0Kamloops, BC, Canada50.674522 -120.327267550.352975500000007 -120.97271450000001 50.9960685 -119.6818205tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-89320387077193608122019-01-04T17:41:00.000-05:002019-01-04T17:41:03.836-05:00Baby #2- The Birth Blog- Who The Hell is Braxton Hicks? (Part 1 of 3)
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well, it has been almost two years since I last used my
keyboard to do anything productive (unless online shopping and researching
toddler YouTube videos counts).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas,
here we are. My wife has been <s>nagging</s> asking me for some time to
document the birth of our second child. Here I am, now a father to two
beautiful baby girls who look like they were born to two completely different
parents attempting to recall the exact point in time where what little free time
we ever had completely vanished in to thin air. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes, Colleen and I now find ourselves asking the age old
question…how in the fuck did we ever complain about <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClzJkv3dpY8" target="_blank">“how hard it is”</a>
with just one kid?! This really makes me appreciate Jon Gosselin more than ever.
That man truly was a national treasure.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDqrQnFZOLa4obkdmq1lc36ef70N0_pFwX_fU5kw5_0cLIJ6_m_jIGLHrgNTbw6vH_ZlmhuW5WljJDwRF8-G9S8hobHJmt7NJVT88eGJPqykFugbX10BtnlA9wUtb6D_C3XfJqD1dlM4AU/s1600/49531839_2296903887206319_2241606602161389568_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDqrQnFZOLa4obkdmq1lc36ef70N0_pFwX_fU5kw5_0cLIJ6_m_jIGLHrgNTbw6vH_ZlmhuW5WljJDwRF8-G9S8hobHJmt7NJVT88eGJPqykFugbX10BtnlA9wUtb6D_C3XfJqD1dlM4AU/s320/49531839_2296903887206319_2241606602161389568_n.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Still not too sure how the human body does this. Terrifying.</span> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyways, steering back on track, for those who have not read
my previous blog on the birth of our now two-year old daughter Squishy, you can
do so <a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.com/2017/04/is-that-mop-head-on-your-lady-bits-no.html" target="_blank">right here</a>. I will warn those of you that are familiar with that story
that this one was not nearly as much of a clusterfuck. There was no flooded
kitchen and no midwife fainting in my wife’s nether regions. There was however
a water birth at home, a pool malfunction, poop, and the standard blood bath
just to name a few of the elements at play. So without further adieu….</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here are some quick background facts on this birth to cut
out some of the back-story this time around:</span></div>
<br />
<ul style="direction: ltr; list-style-type: disc;">
<li style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0cm; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1;">
As with the first gremlin, we were planning for
a drug-free home birth.</div>
</li>
<li style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0cm; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1;">
The plan was to again have a water birth.</div>
</li>
<li style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0cm; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1;">
There would be midwives and a doula involved
again. I resisted against paying for a doula, but as with most arguments, I
lost.</div>
</li>
<li style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0cm; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1;">
We knew we were having a girl but there was no
“gender reveal party” this time. We kept it a surprise for just about everyone.
Everyone, except for the 10 or so people that I accidentally slipped in a “she”
too when discussing our unborn child. Dad fail. In addition, writing the words
“gender reveal party” makes me feel like less of a man so hopefully I never
have to do it again.</div>
</li>
<li style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0cm; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1;">
Fake names have been given to the midwives and
doula. Bonus points if you can figure out what television program/movie the
three names come from.</div>
</li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">October 13, 2018 started out like any other day….the birds
were chirping; our almost 2-year-old daughter Squishy was demanding us to put
on an endless loop of nursery rhymes on YouTube a mere ten seconds after she
woke up; and my wife, Colleen, just happened to be a week overdue with our
second child. By this time Colleen was ready to get the baby out of her as she
had been experiencing something called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Braxton_Hicks" target="_blank">Braxton Hicks</a> for a few days which I
just assumed was doctor speak for “this baby needs to get the fuck out or I am
going to kill you all”. Thankfully, there was a non-stress test/check-up
scheduled at the hospital that day where our midwife would be performing the
not-so-subtly-named <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sweep </i>on Colleen.
For those not in the know, a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sweep</i> is
exactly as it sounds. The midwife just gives your cervix the old hand job in
hopes of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sweeping </i>the baby into
action<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. Sweep. Sweep. Sweep</i>. Sounds
like fun!<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc15DaYk9WW_dU7zT3r_IoKljAmviJh2p6-YoWDABfTG9gmFrt-E3ukLHX4nEmkgcSmggum5B4r1aoo1rL-_fUIxzOpN5xrMBvZ7UiRjsAsI4ylNpD4GREDGYhbH9O5iIwTHG8UiYs4pS/s1600/49309840_2755787204438184_423055253613576192_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmc15DaYk9WW_dU7zT3r_IoKljAmviJh2p6-YoWDABfTG9gmFrt-E3ukLHX4nEmkgcSmggum5B4r1aoo1rL-_fUIxzOpN5xrMBvZ7UiRjsAsI4ylNpD4GREDGYhbH9O5iIwTHG8UiYs4pS/s400/49309840_2755787204438184_423055253613576192_n.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Possibly the last photographic evidence we have of our now "easy" life with one kid</span>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As Colleen was liable to pop at
any minute, our daughter Squishy and I accompanied her to the hospital for her lunchtime
appointment. Once there, Colleen underwent all her necessary tests and had her <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sweep</i> (last time I use this word I
promise!). I was tasked with keeping our other child alive, which presumably
was not going well as she kept dropping her food on the hospital floor and then
eating it. When one of the nurses saw this and looked appalled she told me I
should probably not be letting my daughter do this as those floors were, well,
they were hospital floors. I did not have the balls to tell the nurse that I
had already let my daughter eat an entire lunch buffet off the floor by that
point. As all the hospital stuff was wrapping up, our midwife Sabrina and the
doctor were both fairly certain that Moreau baby number two would be coming
that day as Colleen was four centimetres dilated. What exactly this means I do
not know. However, I did understand that a baby possibly sliding down the old
birthing tubes today was a very real possibility…..<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="border-color: currentColor currentColor windowtext; border-image: none; border-style: none none solid; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNzPAqTzrhsMVe6odcIWQi6cT-O3caalM60uuK3k4_VGrHGhhyphenhyphenYsdUNBEIZGZhBYe3OW0q44oYR298g-fUVGe9JmUQjjaskCmMkzqsXbKLwk2gOwJ9mkYCf6gmqDzw4LuYxnXfr0uhBaV/s1600/49292658_1538876849589617_6564182970142294016_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNzPAqTzrhsMVe6odcIWQi6cT-O3caalM60uuK3k4_VGrHGhhyphenhyphenYsdUNBEIZGZhBYe3OW0q44oYR298g-fUVGe9JmUQjjaskCmMkzqsXbKLwk2gOwJ9mkYCf6gmqDzw4LuYxnXfr0uhBaV/s320/49292658_1538876849589617_6564182970142294016_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Hey Dad. Throw my mafuckin' Cheerios on the floor so I can eat them up and show this unborn baby how tough I am."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span><strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">NEXT TIME: POOL PARTY!!!!!!!!</span></span></strong>
</div>
</div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0Kamloops, BC, Canada50.674522 -120.327267550.352976000000005 -120.97271450000001 50.996068 -119.6818205tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-42696516322810706022017-04-11T03:04:00.001-04:002017-04-11T21:37:49.259-04:00Is That A Mop Head On Your Lady Bits? No, It's Just An Unconscious Woman (The Birthing Story: Part 4 of 4)<span class="_xdb"> </span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>In case you missed or feel like a refresher, the first three parts of the story are linked below..</i>.. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.ca/2016/12/should-we-include-water-wings-in.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">Should We Include Water Wings In The Birthing Kit? (The Birthing Story: Part 1 of 4)</span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.ca/2017/01/those-contraction-things-look-like.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">Those Contraction Things? Look Like A Piece of Cake To Me (The Birthing Story: Part 2 of 4)</span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.ca/2017/03/flooding-your-kitchen-while-your-wife.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">Flood Your Kitchen While Your Wife Is In Labour. Cause, Why Not? (The Birthing Story: Part 3 of 4)</span></a></div>
<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Quick Recap of the story so far…</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">- We failed miserably at our initial attempt
to fill a birthing tub in our living room and my wife was now very close to
giving birth in our bath tub after I almost flooded our house</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">- Baby Moreau was just about ready to enter
the world!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">- All people’s names outside of my wife and
I have had their names changed to characters from Sex and The City. I am sure
they would not have wanted it any other way</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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It was
officially go-time as Colleen was in the water, albeit in our bathroom, and
there were three midwives, myself, and a doula all crammed in to our not-so
large bathroom with her. As Colleen entered the final 45 minutes or so, fatigue
was definitely starting to set in. It was now well after 1:00a.m and the midwives
and doula were working their magic. In between pushes, my now exhausted wife
was constantly asking “how many more pushes!?” and proclaiming that she
couldn’t go on. The other ladies in attendance were great at giving her vague
answers and offering her words of encouragement. Our doula Carrie had also been
tasked with photographing the experience by my wife so she was pulling double
duty while all of this was carnage was going on. The cycle of insanely loud
screams for a minute or two followed by my wife going dead silent and looking
like she was going to pass out were in full-on mode now. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And what was I doing during all of this you
ask?</i> Why I was of course sitting on the toilet seat beside the tub with one
of those little nets you use to scoop dead fish out of your aquarium. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And what was that net for you ask?</i> Why it
was of course used for scooping the poo-floaters out of the water that inevitably
arise as a result of trying to push a human out of your vagina! Yes, my job was
to try and scoop up the poops! This is the part you don’t see in the movies. I
always just thought that the women give a couple pushes and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">voila(!)</i>, a baby is born. Nope, it can
be a messy affair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a kid I had always
wanted to be a marine biologist (true story), until I had my own fish tank and
discovered that I didn’t like touching fish, even with a net. So here I was,
all these years later and fish-phobia still very present, but now I was using
one of those feared nets for something I never thought I would do. Surprising (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">or maybe not to women who have given birth</i>!)
is the fact that the poo, or in this case poo water just becomes kind of an
afterthought. </div>
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<br /></div>
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After a few
minutes of trying to capture floaters I gave up as we were now getting very
close to delivering the sister our fur-son Milo never wanted and would come to
be jealous of. Colleen was rotating between pushing, screaming and appearing to
almost pass out, while the midwives and doula did their part to make sure
everything went smoothly. And there I was: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">holding
my poo ne</i>t. In all seriousness I was super-proud of my wife and watching a
woman give birth will definitely give you a new-found respect for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain that a woman’s body goes through is
truly something that I think no man would survive. If we men were the ones who
had to give birth the human race would have been extinct a long-time ago (see:
one generation)!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Shortly after
2:00am on December 1, 2016, Colleen’s contraction screams were reaching
Biblical proportions. I will admit that things started to get really blurry
around here, but all of a sudden, there was my wife in the bathtub and one of
the midwives was telling us that our baby’s head was starting to emerge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure as shit, I looked down and there was a
tuft of hair that wasn’t there a couple of minutes prior in the tub!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the midwives got in their positions, it
was time for one final push.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I vaguely
remember one of them telling Colleen that she was going to “catch the baby” herself
and Colleen just kind of saying “ok”. This was definitely not something we had
planned on, but then again we didn’t plan on having this all go down in our 50
square foot bathroom with 6 people in it. And with that….the final push. Within
a matter of moments Colleen was having her final contraction and then in what
to this point was the most emotional moment of my life, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Adeline Kennedy Moreau </b>was in my wife’s arms!!! It all happened so
fast, but sure enough Colleen pushed out our amazingly beautiful daughter and even
made the catch unassisted! For the record, she was 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and was
born at 2:14am. She also looked like she had recently hit a tanning bed and an
all-you-can-eat buffet inside my wife’s belly.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8p8s6Tz3RhXROptqanHSU2Por2v-k1DkUIEHGDkDjfeuxdfRiySSz-qKQngXWgctsswPNvZlAkgV9f_W6mZ_embku0tDK4seyjmj1sQhTODk3zfKN1iZpUwZyioUrBoRjvvshGlbzzbO/s1600/Photo+2016-12-01%252C+2+28+31+AM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8p8s6Tz3RhXROptqanHSU2Por2v-k1DkUIEHGDkDjfeuxdfRiySSz-qKQngXWgctsswPNvZlAkgV9f_W6mZ_embku0tDK4seyjmj1sQhTODk3zfKN1iZpUwZyioUrBoRjvvshGlbzzbO/s320/Photo+2016-12-01%252C+2+28+31+AM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photographic evidence that it did in fact happen in da <strike>club</strike> tub (sorry, Dad jokes). Still crazy to think that that happened! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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As Colleen
kneeled in the tub, holding her new found love, Adeline (aka Squishy Moreau), I
started shaking and crying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
admit, I normally only cry at sad movies (real sucker for Nicholas Sparks), but
seeing our daughter and my wife brought out a whole new set of emotions in me
that I didn’t know were there. It truly was the most magical thing and even
just thinking about it four-and-a-half months later brings a big smile to my
face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But alas, no time for me to cry,
there was still work to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVlNfDFCp_M1OHs55khd-tHlmohheGoGYThVQEEjoaIv4IF052pKOYyLxEMGgNav2MoMrKPS4-5woLqDILJOyp3Ct9XjqwwYSJ9i7y0HIroMnQaVofKRX39k7oLT-BnjQy6JVRMitEiod/s1600/Photo+2016-12-01%252C+7+02+11+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVlNfDFCp_M1OHs55khd-tHlmohheGoGYThVQEEjoaIv4IF052pKOYyLxEMGgNav2MoMrKPS4-5woLqDILJOyp3Ct9XjqwwYSJ9i7y0HIroMnQaVofKRX39k7oLT-BnjQy6JVRMitEiod/s320/Photo+2016-12-01%252C+7+02+11+AM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tough day being born. Better hit the hay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another one
of those things that I feel you just do not learn via the magic of Hollywood
Sex Education is the fact that a woman has to birth a placenta after the fact.
Yes, for those not in the know, you have to basically birth the thing that has
been providing nutrient’s to your baby inside you. For this, the midwives
decided to move Colleen onto our bed and out of the blood-soaked bathtub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By this time Colleen was exhausted beyond belief
and not enjoying the fact that she had to birth this mutant-pizza looking thing
out of her. All we wanted to do was snuggle our baby and get it over with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sparing the gory details, Colleen was able to
push out the placenta, at which point Miranda (the most senior of the midwives)
remarked that it was the second largest one she had ever seen! This was a woman
who has done hundreds of births, and she said the only placenta she had ever
seen that was larger than Colleen’s was from a baby that was like 12 pounds! We
never did figure out why Colleen’s body was attempting to set a Guinness World
Record, but I am going to go with the fact that the reason it was so large was
to feed our adorable daughter’s squishiness.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhgu_4J2u96eyBjoCaesX52bsr13JZKzcTMqQUROcWpe7eMPE2sEoEB-xWNRNG3nauZQQIzflZrbIrGJ9UCrUcdGvP_3Ch0USRZlzke5BZgPTpnFc1l6uq68_rtmKcygaJ54n7JIhbLUk/s1600/Photo+2016-12-07%252C+10+43+37+PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhgu_4J2u96eyBjoCaesX52bsr13JZKzcTMqQUROcWpe7eMPE2sEoEB-xWNRNG3nauZQQIzflZrbIrGJ9UCrUcdGvP_3Ch0USRZlzke5BZgPTpnFc1l6uq68_rtmKcygaJ54n7JIhbLUk/s320/Photo+2016-12-07%252C+10+43+37+PM.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">World Record Placenta (hope you're not squeamish!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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As we moved
into the post-birth stuff, it was time to get Colleen fixed up. I was lying
beside Colleen in our bed with Adeline on my chest and a pile of meconium was
slowly developing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(Google definition: the
earliest stool of a mammalian infant. Unlike later feces, meconium is composed
of materials ingested during the time the infant spends in the uterus). </i>As
mentioned in previous blogs, one of our attending midwives was a student,
Charlotte. The two other midwives were getting her to do a lot of the “work” on
Colleen as she was learning and they were the teachers so-to-speak. Now
Charlotte was not completely new to this, as she had told my wife in previous
conversations that she had been a part of over forty births. She had been
super-awesome throughout the delivery and everything was going as well as we
could have hoped for. The next step in getting Colleen’s body back on the road
to recovery was for her to receive a couple of stitches to repair any “tearing”
that had been done. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My God, I should just
stop there, but I won’t. Sorry Honey.</i> As Colleen lay there, beyond exhausted,
the midwife team prepared her to get a couple of stitches done to her baby-making
region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was kind of half-listening,
and my understanding was that the midwives were getting Charlotte to do the first
stitch or two and then the more senior ladies would take over. You know, just
your classic 4:00am on a Thursday learning experience. So, Colleen assumed the “stirrups”
position and it was officially go time on the stitching. With that, Charlotte
leaned in to Colleen’s nether regions to start threading the needle and all of
a sudden all Colleen felt was a big pile of hair on her hoo-hah and then…CRASH!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before we knew what happened, Charlotte was
passed out on the floor of our bedroom. Sure as shit, as she leaned in to
stitch Colleen up she had fainted right into her lady bits and then crashed to
the floor. This all happened rather quickly, and no one really knew what the
hell was going on! Here we were at 4 or 5am in the morning, and we have an
unconscious midwife on our bedroom floor. Samantha (our head midwife) started
calling out to Miranda in the other room as she attempted to do whatever the hell
it is you when your student midwife passes out. This also sent me in to a panic
and I started screaming like a little bitch for Miranda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully, Charlotte was not unconscious for
too long and came to pretty quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
say that she was mortified after an unconscious muff-dive session on my wife
would be an understatement! It turns out that it was not the sight of my wife’s
vajayjay that had caused her to pass out, but it was in fact exhaustion and the
fact that she had not eaten all day. I mean, at least that it was she told us! We
might never know the truth…
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And with
that, our family had a new plus one! The rest of the night and morning went off
without a hitch (I think) and as I write this I cannot imagine my life without
our daughter. It truly is life’s greatest gift. BEING A DAD IS THE GREATEST
THING EVER; WELL AT LEAST UNTIL SHE STARTS SASSING ME IN A FEW YEARS!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXj7ygD7cqyU1scYCOm0gCx1fZJKtAJ6fopc61Cl0Jp_eANHz6yR2jhppJhVq5IVXLSkEI3LhB1ozsJJZug5A5wsPU18EjtCEwFIFzpvhFnTA_GhbUkMuHNKJ06_BtK3z6OyDqo2nABwVz/s1600/Photo+2016-12-02%252C+2+46+10+PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXj7ygD7cqyU1scYCOm0gCx1fZJKtAJ6fopc61Cl0Jp_eANHz6yR2jhppJhVq5IVXLSkEI3LhB1ozsJJZug5A5wsPU18EjtCEwFIFzpvhFnTA_GhbUkMuHNKJ06_BtK3z6OyDqo2nABwVz/s320/Photo+2016-12-02%252C+2+46+10+PM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that my friend's is how you make your dog hate you.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In adding to
the comedy of errors that was the birth of our daughter, I would also just like
to add this as a quick footnote. We discovered a couple of days after the birth
that in all of the craziness and pandemonium of that night that we forgot to
put a memory card in our beautiful SLR camera that we were having our doula
take photos with. Naturally, the camera has no internal memory and all of the
photos were lost. What made this even more painful is the fact that the
midwives and doula were remarking during the birth how great the photos looked.
This still chokes my wife up brutally to this day. A few photos were taken with
a camera phone and I have shared some of those on here.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
As a
secondary footnote, a big, big thank you to the midwives and our doula. You
guys were all amazing, professional, awesome, and on and on. Through all the
craziness it was surprising how “smooth” everything went. I can’t imagine our
life without Adeline. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Lastly,
thank you to YOU the readers! This blog series has far and away been the most
read (or at least clicked on!) material I have posted in the 10+ years I have
blogged and I appreciate all of the feedback. If I can make you chuckle even in
the slightest I feel like it is mission accomplished. And yeah, I know a lot of
my jokes are leaning towards the “shitty Dad joke” genre these days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
OH AND YOU MY
BEAUTIFUL WIFE AND DAUGHTER: I LOVE YOU BOTH IMMENSELY AND CAN’T WAIT TO SEE
WHAT THE FUTURE HAS IN STORE! ON TO THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVh2PoYOp-X2mlz7T7_5aWT00-Px8MR3x5IukbMHpIYwvEx5y9Ot2kJB3_HY7fvYV_Ee0w9c0s44qjltnz8rI3E-K_mj4xzTdwFjTtDICpEuqVPEEqIrStiqp05WlC5UwhtHWPvhx9epIO/s1600/Photo+2016-12-01%252C+5+11+14+AM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVh2PoYOp-X2mlz7T7_5aWT00-Px8MR3x5IukbMHpIYwvEx5y9Ot2kJB3_HY7fvYV_Ee0w9c0s44qjltnz8rI3E-K_mj4xzTdwFjTtDICpEuqVPEEqIrStiqp05WlC5UwhtHWPvhx9epIO/s320/Photo+2016-12-01%252C+5+11+14+AM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh out the oven!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnzerha04Vl56H7zrGXCGxa45dnipiQdt_CipIuP_ATUghwOqK2PabTh9SF8NeVuVKY1cmpHLE7bs70yLmy2Heu-OvHmKf3xk5IApnPL-JNdgq4trV2cuj3WU9m5vrenW8v3mbTemqKvk/s1600/Photo+2016-12-03%252C+2+49+16+PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnzerha04Vl56H7zrGXCGxa45dnipiQdt_CipIuP_ATUghwOqK2PabTh9SF8NeVuVKY1cmpHLE7bs70yLmy2Heu-OvHmKf3xk5IApnPL-JNdgq4trV2cuj3WU9m5vrenW8v3mbTemqKvk/s320/Photo+2016-12-03%252C+2+49+16+PM.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She'll grow into them (Update: has now outgrown all of them!)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2HPhNhotv1n3iczXwsNqM8YMR8WKoaPFyaTEkkINvpGRCbYjlrSeV9VmaQ-xzq1g2YfRWlG4VSbrR0QXuzdazWX1SETebxkFe43LfQrt9JqudAIbUExXvjMvuR9pPVgtKD-uE7_nOoCYv/s1600/Photo+2016-12-06%252C+4+03+51+PM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2HPhNhotv1n3iczXwsNqM8YMR8WKoaPFyaTEkkINvpGRCbYjlrSeV9VmaQ-xzq1g2YfRWlG4VSbrR0QXuzdazWX1SETebxkFe43LfQrt9JqudAIbUExXvjMvuR9pPVgtKD-uE7_nOoCYv/s320/Photo+2016-12-06%252C+4+03+51+PM.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who's in charge of the sizing around here?!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-69664406024909458162017-03-08T23:02:00.001-05:002017-03-08T23:15:39.951-05:00Flood Your Kitchen While Your Wife Is In Labour. Cause, Why Not? (The Birthing Story: Part 3 of 4)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Quick Recap of the first two parts of this
story….</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">-We (and by we I really mean Colleen) were planning on having a natural (see:
drug-free) home-birth in water</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">- Colleen was in labour</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">-There were 2 midwives (1 more to come) and
a doula present </i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">- I had just been tasked with filling the birthing
pool in our living room as we were reaching “push-for-real-cause-this-human-is-coming-out-whether-you-like-it-or-not” time</i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">- All people’s names outside of my wife and
I have had their names changed to characters from Sex and The City. I am sure
they would not have wanted it any other way</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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As the clock
approached midnight, things were only starting to get more intense. Colleen was
rotating her time between the couch in the living room and sitting on the
toilet trying to be as comfortable as possible during her contractions. I’m
sure it’s no coincidence that these also happen to my two favourite places in
the house. The midwives and doula were coaching (is that the right word?)
Colleen through her screams which rotated between sounding like an exorcism was
taking place and some weird tribal chanting. By this point, Colleen was a
sweaty mess, but powering through it like the boss she is. I’d be lying if
between the screams and moans there wasn’t the occasional comment of “I can’t
do this anymore!”, “I need drugs!” or “how much longer!?”, but I must say the
ladies on-hand did a great job of diffusing the situation and never answering
any of her questions!</div>
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<br /></div>
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While all
this was going on, I had been tasked with filling the birthing pool, which as
previously mentioned was basically like a large-scale kiddy pool with “oh-shit”
handles that we had inflated in our living room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since we live in a newer build house, <strike>many</strike> all of
our taps in the house do not have regular attachments. Because of this, I had
to buy an adapter for the hose to hook on to our kitchen tap when we were
filling the pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I had originally
purchased it a couple of weeks earlier, I had quickly made sure that it fit
over our tap so that there would be no problems when it was go time. I never
actually turned the water on, but everything seemed pretty simple: or so I thought.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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Once I got
the hose hooked up and the water running, it became quite clear that something
was not right with the water pressure. The tub was filling… but it was filling
at a really slow rate. When you consider that there was a woman about to give
birth who really wanted that fuckin’ tub filled, it looked like molasses coming
out of the hose! Somewhere in the first 30 minutes or so of trying to get the
tub filled I believe Colleen’s water broke. Thankfully it happened over the
toilet, so I was spared having to rent a carpet cleaner the following day. It
was around this time that our student midwife, Charlotte, walked into the
kitchen and figured out why the tub was filling at such a slow rate: we had a
flood on our hands! We quickly came to discover that in the 30 minutes since we
had started to fill the tub, only about half the water was going into the tub,
while the other half was backing up into our faucet and flooding the area underneath
our sink. This eventually spilled out onto the kitchen floor and by the time we
knew what the fuck was going on the kitchen floor was flooded, the cabinets
underneath the sink had flooded, and water was dripping down through our vents
into the basement. Charlotte and I quickly grabbed every towel we could find in
the house and attempted to right the ship in the kitchen. </div>
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<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//giphy.com/embed/RZOwn8eeGYHAs" width="480"></iframe><a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/RZOwn8eeGYHAs"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">Did someone request a carpet cleaner?</span></i></a><br />
<br /></div>
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Since
Colleen had issues of her own to deal with at this time, we decided it would be
best not to tell her that her less than one-year old kitchen was sinking like
the Titanic while she was in the worse pain of her life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As if there wasn’t enough shit (<i>pun intended)n </i>happening,
Colleen yelled out in frightening agony “I HAVE TO POO!” which meant baby was
coming ASAP! After a quick check from our midwife, it was confirmed that it was go time.
During all of this panic, our midwife, Samantha, made the executive decision
that we were not going to be able to get the tub filled in time given our
current status and that we would be moving this show along without the birthing
pool. Being told that your wife’s birthing plan of many months was literally in
shambles in the exact moment that you are attempting to clean your semi-flooded
kitchen was definitely a “FML” moment for me. How in God’s name where we going to
tell Colleen this? If I remember correctly we started to skirt around the issue
a bit while Colleen kept asking, “is the tub ready"? Eventually we caved and
told her that we couldn’t get the tub filled up in time and that she was not
going to have the water birth she had been dreaming of. It was at this time
that Colleen looked at me with an almost
“defeated-exhausted-you-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-me-look” and I felt like the
worst tub-filler in the world! <i>And to think my high school guidance counselor told me I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up.</i> </div>
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<br /></div>
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As Colleen
kept going through her contractions and the midwives were prepping for the
birth, our doula, Carrie, decided to take Colleen into the master bathroom. At
this point we decided we might as well try and fill the bathtub and see if we
couldn’t get that filled in time for the birth, although we were really
starting to come down to crunch time. While it was significantly smaller and
more cramped than our original birthing station we had set-up in the living
room, it was worth a shot as Colleen was dead set on having a water birth. With
that in mind Carrie started running the water while the two of us comforted
Colleen through her contractions. In keeping with the comedy of errors theme,
about 30 seconds after she started filling the bathtub Carrie looked over at me
(while trying to not let Colleen see) and mouthed the words “there’s no hot
water left”.<i> Are you kidding me?!</i> As it turned out we had used all of the hot
water to simultaneously flood our kitchen and fill the birthing tub to about
20% capacity. Here was my wife, mere minutes away from pushing a tiny human out
of her hoo-hah, and we had no access to drugs, no water, and there were five
people standing around in my bathroom trying to figure out what the hell to do!
Since we still had a bit of time, we quickly devised a plan to transfer the only
hot water available; and that happened to be in the birthing tub. So while,
Samantha and Carrie attended to the now near-ready-to-pop Colleen, Charlotte
and I gathered up a couple of salad bowls and literally started bailing water
one bowl at a time from my living room to the 100 or so feet to our master
bathroom. We looked like we belonged in a <strike>Three</strike> Two Stooges sketch. During all this commotion, another midwife, Miranda, showed up as two
midwives were required for the birth (Charlotte was a student so she didn’t
count). This meant only one thing: it was show time!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="giphy-embed" frameborder="0" height="496" src="//giphy.com/embed/13lU87TkZIAJ7q" width="480"></iframe><a href="http://giphy.com/gifs/13lU87TkZIAJ7q"></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can honestly say in all of the wildest
birthing situations I could have imagined this was not one of them!
Miraculously we were able to get all of the water out of the one tub and into
the other tub using our deft salad bowl carrying skills and we were back in
business! Colleen was going to have a water birth after all!</div>
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<br /></div>
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And with
that, Colleen was in the tub in her birthday suit, five of us were egging her on and little baby Moreau was
going to be coming into the world Michael Phelps style! </div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-78914417294507166912017-01-27T03:06:00.001-05:002017-03-08T22:38:10.090-05:00Those Contraction Things? Look Like A Piece of Cake To Me (The Birthing Story: Part 2 of 4)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">*** All people mentioned in this story outside of Colleen and I have
had their names changed. And yes, their fake names are from Sex and the City.
Don’t be such a Samantha; deal with it. ***</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
The birth of a child: one of the
greatest (if not the greatest), most spectacular moments of your life. This is
a statement I will not argue with. I was truly weeping like a baby the moment
my daughter was born. I was feeling feelings I didn’t know existed….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
…. What they don’t tell you about
in the world of sitcoms and Hallmark movies is that the whole experience also
happens to be pretty fuckin’ insane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now
maybe I would have been better equipped if I had read some of the material that
my wife purchased so lovingly for me, but alas all I read in the nine months
leading up to the birth of my daughter was some<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Belly-Laughs-10th-anniversary-Childbirth/dp/B00PWO5V58" target="_blank"> pregnancy book written by ex-Playmate/current whack job Jenny McCarthy</a>, who last I checked was not
qualified to be instructing me on parenting. So I failed in the preparation
category. Sue me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
By the time November 30 rolled
around, Colleen was starting to wonder if she actually was going to give birth
or whether there was just an alien life form that was permanently hibernating in
her womb. At this point we were ten days overdue, and while I can’t speak from personal
experience (unless food babies count) she really just wanted to get the baby
the hell out! The afternoon started off like any ordinary Wednesday: a visit to
the midwife so Colleen could get a “membrane sweep”. In the name of good taste I
will not go any further into this; but for those of you who don’t know what is,
consider yourself lucky!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglybEJ_XQw5Ow__T9szCXq2XR_ezm9nG7zTFt30aiG9vXO4QAuLmsUq58lZXWEMvFsFNLjJC3lZvCLWuGHRQ855RY9CzTU2bNbB3xZuQCsSiluHZscwqQN3W67x2lAX0NxWSRH1g4unT5G/s1600/20161106_211259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglybEJ_XQw5Ow__T9szCXq2XR_ezm9nG7zTFt30aiG9vXO4QAuLmsUq58lZXWEMvFsFNLjJC3lZvCLWuGHRQ855RY9CzTU2bNbB3xZuQCsSiluHZscwqQN3W67x2lAX0NxWSRH1g4unT5G/s320/20161106_211259.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unborn child has the nicest room in the house. Figures.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
That evening we went over to my
mother-in-law’s house for dinner and we both proceeded to eat spaghetti like a
couple of starving Italians at an <a href="http://s2.quickmeme.com/img/05/053f19b55ed23e1165629babab3bda7e6724c470fe0062fff13bedaf25a78620.jpg" target="_blank">Olive Garden going-out-of-business sale</a>. Shortly thereafter while we were contemplating our poor life choices and lounging on
the couch, Colleen started to feel a little “uncomfortable”. She was insisting
that this was not your ordinary spaghetti cramp and it was not long after 7pm
when suddenly our dreams of watching Modern Family reruns appeared to be
dashed. Fearing that that this may be the start of these so-called “contraction
things”, we packed up our pasta-infused asses and headed home. Now that would have
been all fine and dandy, except that we were a half hour from our house and we
had two separate cars. We decided it would be best if I tailed behind Colleen’s car,
just in case we had to have one of those television-style births in the bathroom
of a truck stop or one of those magical movie moments where the woman’s water
bursts in the car. So along we went, and just when it appeared that we were
going to make it home unscathed, Colleen quickly pulled her car over about ten
minutes from our house. Figuring that I might be viewed as an asshole if I just
drove by, I also pulled over and made sure she was okay. Well, she was okay, minus
the fact that her body was preparing to usher out a human and she was in
unbearable pain. I instructed our daughter to stay inside her mother a little
while longer, and thankfully she listened. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
Once we arrived home, it was time
to get the party started (I’m guessing that’s how it feels right ladies!?). Quick
update: for those that did not read p<a href="http://bigidiotstick.blogspot.ca/2016/12/should-we-include-water-wings-in.html" target="_blank">art one of this blog, we were planning to have a home birth in water</a>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
By now it was around 8pm and
things were escalating quickly. When you are a first time mother, you hear all
different timelines from all sorts of women about how long <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">your</i> birth/labor is going to be. Some women tell you it’s going to
be days, others tell you it is mere minutes, and then there is everything in
between. The thing is, you just don’t know; and when you have never experienced
this before it is downright terrifying (again, speaking for my wife). Seeing as
how things weren’t getting any less intense, we ended up calling our doula,
Carrie, to come over. She arrived a short-time later and seemed fairly positive that
she would just stop in for a bit that night, help get Colleen get comfortable,
and then be on her way for the evening. Yeah, that didn’t happen. Shit started
getting crazy, and by crazy I mean it seemed like our daughter was going to shoot
out the birthing channel (this is a thing, right?) at any second. Since Colleen’s
contractions were ratcheting up, she decided to have a bath to try and soothe
some of the pain. Since this was early in the night and she was still feeling
conservative around Carrie, this involved her wearing a bathing suit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things got decidedly less conservative as the
night went on!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
While Colleen was handling her
business in the bathtub, I was enlisted with inflating the “birthing pool” in
our living room. I can honestly say when we bought the house about a year
earlier and we were laying out our furniture I never imagined that that is what
I would be using the space in front of our television for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For those of you, who were like me and can’t
imagine what such a thing is, just think of a slightly deeper, more durable
kiddy pool with some “oh shit” handles on the side of it and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">voila(!) </i>you have a birthing pool.
Thanks to my trusty air mattress pump, the pool was now ready to be filled,
although the adding of water would have to wait as this does not happen until
closer to the actual birth so that the water remains warm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
My next task was getting our noisy,
personal-space invading, forever attention-seeking dog Milos out of the house. We
had decided it would be better to not have him at home during the birth as I’m
sure it would result in far too much chaos. All of the pregnancy screaming from
his mom (Colleen insists he is her son) would have led to constant barking and I
would have bet money that at some point he would have ended up in the birthing tub sans doggy lifejacket.
Thankfully, Milos' foster mom had agreed to take him in for a couple of nights.
I packed our confused fur baby up into the car, drove him over to his foster
mom’s house, and told him, “I’m sorry you jealous bastard: you are really going
to hate us when you come home in a couple of days and are no longer our baby”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHiPlYBfOgnqsvabxndVe3IDZKVZhYQuNQSIgTncVLWdUVEIdbDxwaSU7eW5XONyCVIBrkY-0xM4nuyGP-Rr4EI7ofHfVYKoVABClhZZwPH95Sf-080IgmlocmyeHoC8q2VhW-_2U2LIB3/s1600/20161101_224447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHiPlYBfOgnqsvabxndVe3IDZKVZhYQuNQSIgTncVLWdUVEIdbDxwaSU7eW5XONyCVIBrkY-0xM4nuyGP-Rr4EI7ofHfVYKoVABClhZZwPH95Sf-080IgmlocmyeHoC8q2VhW-_2U2LIB3/s320/20161101_224447.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He'll still always be my first-born son who likes heating pads and being talked to like a human baby!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
Back home, things were in full
swing. Carrie had realized that this baby was coming sooner than later and
after a couple of calls to our midwife where Colleen explained her contraction
times, pain level (getting higher by the minute), etc. it became pretty clear
that they had better their asses over to our house as our daughter was probably going
to be making her grand entrance that evening. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
By the time our midwife, Samantha,
and her student assistant Charlotte arrived (somewhere in the 10pm -11pm range)
Colleen had decidedly become a little less conservative with her clothing
options. Now anyone who knows my wife knows that she is generally fairly
conservative and a mere couple hours earlier she had been carefully putting her
bathing suit on to take a bath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, I
can now speak from personal visual experience when I say that there is nothing that will
make a woman lose her inhibitions like labor contractions. Maybe cheap
tequila, but that never worked for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy times! (until the next contraction started!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The next couple of hours were
admittedly a blur, as it involved lots of screaming/contractions; moving
between the bathroom, the kitchen and the couch for different positions that
were comfortable; other women telling my wife she was “doing a good job”; and
well you get the idea. Colleen was becoming super fatigued from the contractions,
and seeing as how the pool was still sitting empty, I was starting to think
that we were settling in for a long night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just when Colleen thought she might die from the contractions, I was
given the go-ahead to start filling the pool. It was time to take this show to
the next level! Shit was about to get real...
</div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-34271812698527102172016-12-22T22:44:00.000-05:002017-03-08T22:38:27.933-05:00Should We Include Water Wings In The Birthing Kit? (The Birthing Story: Part 1 of 4)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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So I have not written in a blog
post in a few years. In fact the last thing I wrote about was my engagement to
my now wife/baby mama/woman who lately keeps putting this strange tasting milk
in my fridge in little bottles. In fact, that series of posts was much better received
than any of my travel pieces, so I should have been writing romance novels the
whole time. On that note, if this seems like it was written by your 6-year old
nephew who sticks crayons up his nose and eats glue off of Popsicle sticks during
arts and crafts time I apologize. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
Having said all that, I am approaching
ten years of blogging and am looking to head in a new direction. Life has
changed greatly (and for the better I might add!). Gone are the days of months-long traveling expeditions, sleeping in hostels with a bunch of white people with greasy
dreadlocks, and drunken nights in exotic locales. Alas, now I am an old-married
man who loves nothing more than sitting on his couch with his amazing wife,
beautiful daughter, Netflix and dog, Milo, who has a strange fascination with
humping any blanket that has a cheetah or leopard print pattern. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AreNnYx8F0U" target="_blank">I’m going out on a limb here, but I think he failed sex education.</a></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7cE4zs1IBag6Zj_9IdPb9COMXhVVpNfLpr238Q32iYejuomP6pSOEyFneZBpd7jD_VG0PU7Fe1S3kigT5Xai_wFfW5zvjtMouBj2zitmVC343ngsTlGElDed8ZEMoiPq5SLyqIBZfCQSR/s1600/13517398_10206517515672724_5694550532751938534_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7cE4zs1IBag6Zj_9IdPb9COMXhVVpNfLpr238Q32iYejuomP6pSOEyFneZBpd7jD_VG0PU7Fe1S3kigT5Xai_wFfW5zvjtMouBj2zitmVC343ngsTlGElDed8ZEMoiPq5SLyqIBZfCQSR/s320/13517398_10206517515672724_5694550532751938534_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not gonna lie...this one took a few takes</td></tr>
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Over the next couple of blog
posts, I will attempt to capture the magic (pretty sure that was what my wife
was calling it while she was cranking a baby out of her hoo-ha) of the recent
birth of our lovely daughter Adeline. I will attempt to leave out the most
graphic stuff, but hey if I was able to stomach it, I’m sure you can too.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So, where to start? Well, nine or
so months ago I looked at my wife and the next thing I knew she announced, “I think
I’m pregnant”. Actually, I am pretty sure that she said “I know I’m pregnant”. I
will forever remember this night because we happened to be about the town that evening and all my wife was concerned about was buying a stick to piss on when she
got home so that she could prove me that she was in fact “with child” as the
sophisticated people say. Well, wouldn’t you know it but we came home and the next
thing I know the two of us are hovering over a little piece of plastic in our
bathroom that my wife just happened to relieve herself on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that my friend is where babies from. This
led to my wife crying tears of happiness and me standing there in shock looking
like someone who just invited ALF and E.T. to a dinner party and actually had both
of them show up. This was of course all verified by a highly trained medical professional in due time. Yes, it would seem that parenthood was imminent.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>***PEE STICK VIDEO BELOW ONLY SEEMS TO BE PLAYING ON DESKTOP COMPUTERS! SORRY*** </b></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwK7xnnahOJ-2qd2Un1ygFM9bQMESSYse6VZwu2AFywkg-_qkLCumsnrkMyq9csx7XL393qClWt_20KPZD2RQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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I will not bore you with the too many details about the next nine or
so months. The quick version goes like this: </div>
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- My wife’s belly grew (if she asks tell her it was hardly
noticeable)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
- We spent a lot of money on maternity clothes that she never wore</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
- We spent a lot of money on baby clothes that my daughter will
probably never wear and baby accessories that she will probably never need or
use</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
- Gender reveal (yes, this is a thing!) and baby shower parties were
had</div>
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- Photos were taken</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
- A <a href="https://www.dona.org/what-is-a-doula/" target="_blank">doula</a> was hired (I will admit I had no idea what this was prior
to this)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
- The decision was made to use a mid-wife instead of a doctor</div>
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- Many appointments were had with said mid-wife</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
- I made frequent trips to the store to buy very specific things that
my wife would crave (salsa runs at 11pm anyone!?)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
- Milo would get jealous of the unborn child and deposit feces around
our living quarters</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>You get the idea.</i></div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsM7sutsvAwf0VsgtSeFRXa1ojIKSLYiog-HIYZYWsGw_kkTnd2eLWTpi-1ywz0Y1spl2Y8GphrGToGusoYdGKa5sUAFcdCAOnS7O-7y-DdjdPttjzvLA0MkMzGTHez4MkYtfz21Q1ONOB/s1600/DSC06132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsM7sutsvAwf0VsgtSeFRXa1ojIKSLYiog-HIYZYWsGw_kkTnd2eLWTpi-1ywz0Y1spl2Y8GphrGToGusoYdGKa5sUAFcdCAOnS7O-7y-DdjdPttjzvLA0MkMzGTHez4MkYtfz21Q1ONOB/s320/DSC06132.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who doesn't love a good baby shower?!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 197.65pt;">
Somewhere along the way the decision was made by my wife that she
wanted to have a homebirth. I thought this was something that was only done
because people couldn’t get to the hospital in time. Nope, it’s a REAL THING I was
informed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I know most people
associate things such as homebirths to the pioneer age or maybe to the more “granola”
types (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">of which Colleen is not</i>), but we
were told that it was perfectly safe and in the event that anything were to
appear abnormal with the pregnancy and/or birth we would be immediately taken
to the hospital. The decision to have a homebirth is one that everyone seems to
have an opinion on, so we did not tell too many people beforehand because every
Tom, Dick, and Harry thinks because they watch Grey’s Anatomy they are medical
experts. Newsflash: If you work in a grocery store give me tips on buying
produce, not on birthing matters. Sorry, rant over. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7k6up8NpWnBJ39bx8KRAfBeJD1lm1vmFlJlKv8osieh1Pq8f2FteSUv8WSR22CVzwmz_UnIIxHTW_6sDEediolMcdldkmldoc1PiyWBBBnczcBMIYMN32lZ5sVJBW5eSkDbWAVNT6DeE6/s1600/colleenmaternity-0053.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7k6up8NpWnBJ39bx8KRAfBeJD1lm1vmFlJlKv8osieh1Pq8f2FteSUv8WSR22CVzwmz_UnIIxHTW_6sDEediolMcdldkmldoc1PiyWBBBnczcBMIYMN32lZ5sVJBW5eSkDbWAVNT6DeE6/s320/colleenmaternity-0053.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By the way baby...did we tell you about our birth plan?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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OH YEAH…AND DID I MENTION WE WERE PLANNING TO HAVE A HOMEBIRTH IN
WATER!? WITHOUT DRUGS! Here I was a mere few months removed from believing that
no baby could ever possibly be born anywhere but a hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next thing I knew I was mapping out space in
my living room for an inflatable pool. If anyone is feeling really brave just
go watch some water-birthing clips on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=waterbirth" target="_blank">Youtube</a> (and those are the ones that are
safe for public consumption).</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If Vegas had set odds at the
beginning of our pregnancy that my wife would want to birth her child at home,
in an inflatable pool, and drug-free I would bet that the odds would have been
somewhere in the 10,000 to 1 range</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And
that’s probably low-balling it.</i></div>
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And with that we waited. Our birthing kit was set, the inflatable
rental pool was on standby <a href="http://www.withchild.ca/product.php?productid=17611" target="_blank">(think a larger, more durable kiddy pool)</a>, and the
nursery complete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now we just had to
wait for the tiny human…Well at least I imagine they feel tiny coming out. Isn’t
that right ladies?</div>
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Thanks for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoyed it!</div>
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<br /></div>
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~Brent~</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>
</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>NEXT BLOG: The birth of a baby!</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-22951000706601567932014-05-01T21:04:00.001-04:002014-05-01T21:04:48.407-04:00Day 97/98- Finally, The Final Chapter Of The Asian Chronicles!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Awaking on the last morning of a multi-month holiday, there
is definitely a bittersweet feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On
one hand it is sad that your trip is coming to a close, but on the other, it's
nice to be going home to your own bed and not having to pack and unpack every
other day.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihEnkY29V-fTkNkTVS_Rla1fOYpJdFszP9G-3kWWronnz9HjNz22d6JCgZNX-4Ld8T01AO5BwbtrLzA6KIA4YNOEnYLnpCJZ6q-XFZUPSvS8lXJv1nYh_jx-NlWo_g5Vy5apXPXKfFInEo/s1600/DSC05205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihEnkY29V-fTkNkTVS_Rla1fOYpJdFszP9G-3kWWronnz9HjNz22d6JCgZNX-4Ld8T01AO5BwbtrLzA6KIA4YNOEnYLnpCJZ6q-XFZUPSvS8lXJv1nYh_jx-NlWo_g5Vy5apXPXKfFInEo/s1600/DSC05205.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank God for English...cause I have no idea what that other stuff says!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since our flight from Hong Kong to Vancouver was not
scheduled to depart until around dinner time, we had a few hours to kill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen and I decided to take our hotel's
complimentary shuttle into the central part of the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Due to the insane traffic, this relatively
short trip took north of an hour, thus limiting our time to play tourists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After strolling around the harbor for a bit,
we headed to one of the nearby plentiful shopping malls to find me some pants
and shoes for the flight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Now why would I need new pants and shoes for
a flight you ask?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Answer: Because I was
travelling standby on Air Canada, and as the son of an employee I was required
to dress somewhat nice</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Momma said
flip flops, a wife beater, and surf shorts were a no go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We figured this would be an easy task as Hong
Kong is famous for its cheap shopping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Boy were we wrong!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every store we
checked out was uber-expensive and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>because of my new found "vacation belly" I could find not a
pair of pants to fit me if my life depended on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damn small and skinny Chinese people!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually we were able to find some dress
shoes, but after a solid hunt, it appeared we were striking out on the
pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The most common size pants
everywhere were 28 and 30, and all I will say is that I was nowhere near that
in the waist department!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end I
made the executive decision to just wear my jeans, which ended up being fine as
they weren't overly strict on the dress code.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgviTMbGu7MKAZ6qoWl4XQG0A5PlQuKmQz8Jp33Pck13N7KIte5rMP0AHVRLFmchpjIYIruM2EuXuO6NhG7m5XsbJEgTwX-1Hxs0p5VrD0m3ewQP25ZPaFepIbYOPufHBUnZxQOZn-lISR7/s1600/DSC05189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgviTMbGu7MKAZ6qoWl4XQG0A5PlQuKmQz8Jp33Pck13N7KIte5rMP0AHVRLFmchpjIYIruM2EuXuO6NhG7m5XsbJEgTwX-1Hxs0p5VrD0m3ewQP25ZPaFepIbYOPufHBUnZxQOZn-lISR7/s1600/DSC05189.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Damn filthy-ass Hong Kong pigeons!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After grabbing some lunch at the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.spaghettihouse.com/html/eng/main/sitemap.jsp" target="_blank">Spaghetti House</a></i>, Colleen and I headed back to the hotel, packed our
stuff up for the last time and grabbed a cab to the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Just a
warning: if you don't like walking, avoid the Hong Kong airport!</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is quite simply the most massive airport
in the history of airports!</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u1yi6pFQPYb8gAqrfbpenIQXPcyBJIhQTy-FP1ycR8S56I6aFQ1YAuyxizQIb80LZgXlwUYaFlFaYue9S1cqS4EmYIOvKmS-zIg57sxnZn9GcOGa5h3_XktihYvrGPclW4eBawu_fjBx/s1600/DSC05191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-u1yi6pFQPYb8gAqrfbpenIQXPcyBJIhQTy-FP1ycR8S56I6aFQ1YAuyxizQIb80LZgXlwUYaFlFaYue9S1cqS4EmYIOvKmS-zIg57sxnZn9GcOGa5h3_XktihYvrGPclW4eBawu_fjBx/s1600/DSC05191.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're coming home!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The twelve hour flight to Vancouver was pretty uneventful,
although I did manage to catch up on some movies (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1024648/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="_blank">Argo</a></i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0443272/?ref_=nv_sr_2" target="_blank">Lincoln</a></i>) ahead
of<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/85th_Academy_Awards" target="_blank"> the Oscars</a> which were scheduled to air the next night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Arriving in Vancouver, Colleen and I said our goodbyes as
she was catching a Greyhound bus back to Kamloops for a couple of weeks before
returning to Inuvik.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I on the other hand
had to get to Toronto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was only
one problem: since I was travelling standby and all of the flights to Toronto
were sold out, I was forced to catch a flight to Montreal where I would hopefully
be able to connect to Toronto the next morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thankfully I was able to get on a late night flight to Montreal, and
would have to tough it out at the airport there until the morning flights to
Toronto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spent the night <s>lounging</s>
attempting to sleep in a wheelchair, which let me just say is not the most fun
after you've been in transit for over thirty hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was able to get on a 7am flight to Toronto
and I must say I have never been happier to see my childhood bed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After 38 hours in transit (with almost no
sleep) and a couple of months away from home, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2012/06/12/25-reasons-why-canada-rocks_n_1590325.html" target="_blank">it felt good to be back on Canadian soil!</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now it was time to face the music in a couple of days and
fly back to Inuvik, -40°C temperatures, no apartment, and work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, come to think of it, I was missing Asia
already!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fuck this winter stuff!</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>****THE
END****</span></div>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thank you to everyone
who read any parts of the "Asia" <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>blog series.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I realize I was publishing these accounts well after the fact,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>but last year was a very busy one for me so
it was hard to find the time and motivation (I'm not so busy now as some of you
may have heard!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks again, and stay
tuned for more!<u><o:p></o:p></u></span></i><br />
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-28707464764204119562014-04-30T01:13:00.000-04:002014-04-30T01:13:35.803-04:00Day 96- Hong Kong Disneyland: It's Like Disneyland...But In Hong Kong.<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our last full day abroad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Single tear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would be flying
out of Hong Kong the next afternoon, so we figured we had better make the most
of our last day before returning to Canada.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was only place that could possibly live up to our expectations for
a grand finale: <s><a href="http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120810144943/himym/images/1/1d/Lustyleopardoutside.png" target="_blank">The Lusty Leopard Strip Club</a></s> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://park.hongkongdisneyland.com/hkdl/en_US/home/home?name=HomePage" target="_blank">Hong Kong Disneyland</a></i>!</span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Colleen and I's initial plan was to wake up at the crack of
dawn and catch the subway down to Disneyland before all the crowds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, the both of us slept through multiple
alarms and we didn't make it out of the hotel much before lunch time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We'll just blame it on jet lag and the one
hour time difference we were coming from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The ride to the park was pretty entertaining, as Disney<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>has their own dedicated subway line
that connects up with the main lines to transport people to the park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The subway cars are decked out with all
Disney regalia including Mickey-shaped windows, "oh-shit" handles,
etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hairy legs also managed to severely
frighten a young child, which now makes my cat Mr. Bubbles (R.I.P.)
non-exclusive in the "Brent's hairy legs resemble a small Yeti and scare
the shit out of me" anti-fan club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbS46895C3hnB4ZsqMohC4__XxGvae6Mrp-QsVT0Fld0eobqZ5p4oMjjruWc6GAsTF2olgJwcTb2NessZH2v-xkrJ-7zJXDbM8m4JToNBbREXz1Ll6e6hpilSpn3I1g1LmimB9xocqqAGo/s1600/DSC04976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbS46895C3hnB4ZsqMohC4__XxGvae6Mrp-QsVT0Fld0eobqZ5p4oMjjruWc6GAsTF2olgJwcTb2NessZH2v-xkrJ-7zJXDbM8m4JToNBbREXz1Ll6e6hpilSpn3I1g1LmimB9xocqqAGo/s1600/DSC04976.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mickey Mouse subway. Mind blown.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqgC4h39-6AWcqKqYfIRXOnEInIHL1_Unrl0YNC1B4geY2xlkKG_D4IM-MXvKitn4B8O-vyldgWiVA20zhFvaNbN1ZqeKCUg3bj_45Ox6A0eHhygXiCz0XTPuanMMNdPo2rb8PfXhsN5H/s1600/DSC05148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqgC4h39-6AWcqKqYfIRXOnEInIHL1_Unrl0YNC1B4geY2xlkKG_D4IM-MXvKitn4B8O-vyldgWiVA20zhFvaNbN1ZqeKCUg3bj_45Ox6A0eHhygXiCz0XTPuanMMNdPo2rb8PfXhsN5H/s1600/DSC05148.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen getting into the Minnie Mouse spirit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we arrived at the park, I must say I was amazed at just
how many Chinese people there were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realize
this may sound like an ignorant comment since we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">were</i> in Hong Kong, but I genuinely expected there to be a greater
representation of foreign interests here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I mean, it had to be 98-99% Chinese people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did my best to blend in with my expensive
SLR camera, but I fear it was all for naught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After taking the requisite tourist photos outside the main gate, the
wifey and I headed in to the park.</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzOY6ptAFEKtVPjLKca8d44iF95iYACQ5GOfpb-yHKBROBMqL2WI5ZUb1AfT0n0FiWy8Ahcg55YMPW7HJLbzGtERHg_cdR95w-B2e7_L7r6gMkVuPyXeIXZ-SHsXG2riQbevHKbAOs9j61/s1600/DSC04978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzOY6ptAFEKtVPjLKca8d44iF95iYACQ5GOfpb-yHKBROBMqL2WI5ZUb1AfT0n0FiWy8Ahcg55YMPW7HJLbzGtERHg_cdR95w-B2e7_L7r6gMkVuPyXeIXZ-SHsXG2riQbevHKbAOs9j61/s1600/DSC04978.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I must say I was getting quite the belly by the end of our trip.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIptie5REJZnm5Y8pUV10p4PCt08-VEeVrQkKNX_bewyaj7MaZ6AVI1BzrN7_3uED1cZpABMX30VByHcmm2zuUMhsDx8k3FEu-k81iVrdxnR5MVh0De3OeiZlftrQ-eCiRPkuFH4x4vHJH/s1600/DSC05016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIptie5REJZnm5Y8pUV10p4PCt08-VEeVrQkKNX_bewyaj7MaZ6AVI1BzrN7_3uED1cZpABMX30VByHcmm2zuUMhsDx8k3FEu-k81iVrdxnR5MVh0De3OeiZlftrQ-eCiRPkuFH4x4vHJH/s1600/DSC05016.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll just pretend I don't know her...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since we were at an amusement park, and let's be real
Colleen and I don't need an excuse, it was a safe bet that we were going to be
eating extremely shitty for the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
hit up a bakery for breakfast before checking out the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lion King</i> live show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must
say<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Timon and Pumbaa never get old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our first official ride of the day was some
new roller coaster, which miraculously we only had to wait two minutes to get
on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One thing I notice as I now enter my
more senior years is that my stomach cannot handle rides like it used to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I know why my parents always sent me and
my siblings on the rides while they just idled nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here I was thinking they didn't love me, when
all they wanted to do was not barf up a lung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Needing a slightly tamer ride, we took <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tarzan's</i> raft to his tree house (I guess he maintains residences
around the world) before venturing over to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Toy
Story Land</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My stomach continued to
act a fool on the rides here, while I did my best to settle it down with the
most revolutionary food product of all-time: a pizza cone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not sure what was better: seeing my
favorite characters from twenty years ago or eating a pizza cone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJv7VvgWDSzI9ds_XJGk0zgxl1ymzhnfwW6QmLCTkizOt74S3uUsypuAByera2eLrawHKJRpSlSi4saIbUvaWkxIo7mPh7gP0HBqo-T8sYc3lpVxCD72xfNoBb4yzd5NyVNDCJRFg9RImP/s1600/DSC05000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJv7VvgWDSzI9ds_XJGk0zgxl1ymzhnfwW6QmLCTkizOt74S3uUsypuAByera2eLrawHKJRpSlSi4saIbUvaWkxIo7mPh7gP0HBqo-T8sYc3lpVxCD72xfNoBb4yzd5NyVNDCJRFg9RImP/s1600/DSC05000.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simba!!!! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSqWl_On2WKhmT0a_wguWL_EiN2R7Ojhrsza2W3Zc4ZhIHeTCUZQLZzhH8jRXyZb823ktXsPo_PQaRRtcQ8DqkGzMgG0Z7xbMDU6CrRSJW-bM_2evlqqBUuKxUikWlNXsMz3y628uAssDs/s1600/DSC05046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSqWl_On2WKhmT0a_wguWL_EiN2R7Ojhrsza2W3Zc4ZhIHeTCUZQLZzhH8jRXyZb823ktXsPo_PQaRRtcQ8DqkGzMgG0Z7xbMDU6CrRSJW-bM_2evlqqBUuKxUikWlNXsMz3y628uAssDs/s1600/DSC05046.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On second thought maybe she should disown me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhho9QjgNvVkIoNVrsZawkYS3iuHa0KzssP29YGm7kB8Iadxku5IAdVPFvrsZJb9PbjId8i4xbETXjHucsLkAklzNqoFBExGy0v24upF9n6tRIGdgWWx3allPerNHtezclwkjvV2RnXdePP/s1600/DSC05047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhho9QjgNvVkIoNVrsZawkYS3iuHa0KzssP29YGm7kB8Iadxku5IAdVPFvrsZJb9PbjId8i4xbETXjHucsLkAklzNqoFBExGy0v24upF9n6tRIGdgWWx3allPerNHtezclwkjvV2RnXdePP/s1600/DSC05047.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's like the year 1995 in real life!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGiTaIkJ5bN52ymX0zJTwsR-ujktdHpDMINgphx7wpL0iVxSR0eIPbR7hhPTji47X6G_k5VXCpFgZ6wIV2XpsXVwoFQppfM6bcYDB0qFx097F-wQkwN1e6es_mmnLN-6TFlAS6cUppjeOk/s1600/DSC05058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGiTaIkJ5bN52ymX0zJTwsR-ujktdHpDMINgphx7wpL0iVxSR0eIPbR7hhPTji47X6G_k5VXCpFgZ6wIV2XpsXVwoFQppfM6bcYDB0qFx097F-wQkwN1e6es_mmnLN-6TFlAS6cUppjeOk/s1600/DSC05058.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sorry Colleen you've been replaced.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next stop in our attempt to see the whole park in one
day was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fantasyland</i>, where we took in
a Mickey Mouse 3D show before I laid eyes on the most annoying, yet most Disney
ride of all-time: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It's A Small World</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I let Colleen know that we were riding those
boats with tiny statue people come hell or high water, because I just really, really, really needed to hear
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jiaU0xbOKs" target="_blank"><em>that</em> song</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I attempted to soak in
the leisurely boat ride, the young girl with her father sitting in front of us
had other ideas and instead wanted to spend the entire ride using us as her
personal English tutors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We happily
obliged her, as I am all for training the future leaders of tomorrow in the
fine art of saying, "hello my name is Brent" on repeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then stumbled upon the daily "Disney
Parade" which we followed up with a visit to another Disney parks
institution: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Space Mountain</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After Colleen owned me on the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Buzz Lightyear Space Shootout</i> (my gun
must have been broken, because we all know women can't shoot), we invested in a
gigantic cotton candy and some other 0% nutritious shit for dinner.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGQQsWFbKnXk-S9Rtw4EfIK2jIOM-81Y1oDbYK-n7Z-RB6umVTAMYJW-cJdBqF87H-EHesN3MaA_3BTbD92PI5jyQveFbqj1s1FeatV54S28EOlPta7MHR2C-RZSIswQWMdfQN38ehiju/s1600/DSC05065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGQQsWFbKnXk-S9Rtw4EfIK2jIOM-81Y1oDbYK-n7Z-RB6umVTAMYJW-cJdBqF87H-EHesN3MaA_3BTbD92PI5jyQveFbqj1s1FeatV54S28EOlPta7MHR2C-RZSIswQWMdfQN38ehiju/s1600/DSC05065.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That sign is the story of my life. Whaddup!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rVJs3Fljfy_PrRtcBLyzR74sldph4zzK3z0Oi5KBO7z_MBSPvAM3dbHBhkRsT4JAKV0io_Qwpc8kCLcaGfAlz2Q5cLomAVlHSb236ljrQFPlD6K7JkB6UCdzQEBkU7Ze7arCrZKsqATj/s1600/DSC05094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rVJs3Fljfy_PrRtcBLyzR74sldph4zzK3z0Oi5KBO7z_MBSPvAM3dbHBhkRsT4JAKV0io_Qwpc8kCLcaGfAlz2Q5cLomAVlHSb236ljrQFPlD6K7JkB6UCdzQEBkU7Ze7arCrZKsqATj/s1600/DSC05094.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This costume has definitely been used in some fetish films.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGRr84firPqBiqbT8dLdPOnUMGtCLvrzK7oiKYLZGE1J9HzvqPp6c_SVc9Qa_xcHbwDB_Yw6urbUZLYZxFKgFiPFCPFXE9Dt-R3dTmC1M90lAvUbzbXvme_ZY6O_T-QiCLSHBG9QcPxHA/s1600/DSC05114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGRr84firPqBiqbT8dLdPOnUMGtCLvrzK7oiKYLZGE1J9HzvqPp6c_SVc9Qa_xcHbwDB_Yw6urbUZLYZxFKgFiPFCPFXE9Dt-R3dTmC1M90lAvUbzbXvme_ZY6O_T-QiCLSHBG9QcPxHA/s1600/DSC05114.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She better share or else...</td></tr>
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</td></tr>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Slightly
unrelated:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During a visit to the public
bathroom, I had the most bizarre thirty seconds ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, upon entering the facilities, I was
greeted by a young girl being propped up by what I can only assume was her
father over top of a urinal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had her
legs on top of the urinal, while she leaned her back against her father in an
attempt to hit the porcelain target.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While all this was going on, a young boy who had just finished taking a
leak decided he didn't need to pull his pants up and just walked over to the
sink and started washing his hands while his digits were hanging out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a casual hand wash sans pants in a Disneyland
bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very normal! Needless to say,
I quickly locked myself in a stall.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With the night winding down, we went on one last ride, the
Jungle River Cruise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must say it was
rather entertaining, as we cruised around this little body of water and random
fake animals jumped out at us in the now dim evening light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Throw in the fact that our tour guide was
more animated than an Asian <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5KJJba4qwQ" target="_blank">Steve Irwin on Prozac</a> and you my friends have the
making of the most ridiculous boat ride ever!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As the night was winding down we headed to the souvenir shops to gather
up some useless crap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of the stores
were absolutely rammed with people who were clearing the shelves off as it was
Boxing Day or a going out of business sale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When you imagine stereotypical Chinese shopping, this was is it at its
finest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having survived the retail
nightmare, we grabbed some Mickey-shaped waffles and grabbed a spot for the end
of night fireworks over top of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cinderella/Sleeping
Beauty</i> castle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A great way to end
the final night of our trip.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7OixGevI7dPlgybRD_Hx0hHXvi6hznkEP-TIXwdPFbPa-Iu3MeHuDy1MpodXsGRXmrgItgEHHHGuzCyUYwWDpZeZDLshZowYQUiz4nRq79s1bCr9Vu1Gxzc9R1rO02VBctfhV9Q3JwS41/s1600/DSC05156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7OixGevI7dPlgybRD_Hx0hHXvi6hznkEP-TIXwdPFbPa-Iu3MeHuDy1MpodXsGRXmrgItgEHHHGuzCyUYwWDpZeZDLshZowYQUiz4nRq79s1bCr9Vu1Gxzc9R1rO02VBctfhV9Q3JwS41/s1600/DSC05156.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BEST. WAFFLE. DESIGN. EVER.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5Gbr5AacWZ12PtBY0H_9Wv10NTj8uFMcOZku5uGGR_2PAWJU6LdFW6BwclYU8dbKlXY8MUsNBGwNyFnU9gRvc9S_9z7q1LZV9gpkZ4f2EPvjQIgrLbEiI3MGWG9oF9ba0Rj_TIayglZv/s1600/DSC05158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5Gbr5AacWZ12PtBY0H_9Wv10NTj8uFMcOZku5uGGR_2PAWJU6LdFW6BwclYU8dbKlXY8MUsNBGwNyFnU9gRvc9S_9z7q1LZV9gpkZ4f2EPvjQIgrLbEiI3MGWG9oF9ba0Rj_TIayglZv/s1600/DSC05158.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our final night in Asia.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-72847092757657365252014-04-23T17:54:00.003-04:002014-04-23T17:54:56.556-04:00Day 95- So The Masseuse Touched My Twig And Berries. Did I Mention They Were A Ladyboy?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sadly our vacation was coming to a close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We only had one destination left, <a href="http://www.discoverhongkong.com/ca/index.jsp" target="_blank">Hong Kong</a>,
where we would only be spending a couple of nights (travel dates were changed
due to poor planning on our part) before flying back to Canada and the reality
that awaited us there (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">see: work and cold
weather</i>).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a much more awesome
note, while we were in Hong Kong, Colleen and I were going to go to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Disneyland</i> the next day and behave like
a couple of children! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our flight to Hong Kong was not scheduled to leave Koh Samui
until 5pm,so we had one last day in the tropical expanse known as
Thailand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After loitering in our room
and its air conditioning for as long as possible, we eventually caught the
shuttle bus into town where we made it our mission to spend the remaining bit
of Thai currency that we had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being the
foodies that we are, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">McDonald's </i>was
naturally our first stop of the day for some of that fine local fare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While Mickey D's is usually a pretty safe bet, the same
could not be said for our second stop of the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I am not a huge man of massages,
Colleen somehow convinced me that we should get one last massage before leaving
the island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as you all know, I am a
big practitioner of the "happy wife, happy life" philosophy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So with that, we found the classiest/most
reputable looking place we came across and sauntered in and signed up for some
oil massages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one of the bigger
massage parlors in the area (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">do they call
them parlors, or is that only for rub and tugs</i>?) so it seemed like a safe
bet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boy were we wrong!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next thing I knew, Colleen and I were being
led upstairs to our own private curtained-off area with our two masseuses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was only slight problem...my masseuse
was not a chick, or even a dude for that matter: it was a ladyboy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Kind of
fitting on my last day in Thailand don't you think?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen could not stop giggling, while I was
not sure whether to laugh myself or run out of the building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never being one to want to offend people, the
next thing I knew I was following the instructions of my large-handed, and we
shall assume well-endowed massage expert and was stripping down to my
boxers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mother of God.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I laid
down I tried to relax, but the truth is I could not stop laughing to
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here I was 95% naked getting
oiled up by someone with gender identification issues while my girlfriend was
laying on a bed beside me smirking and giggling at my discomfort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the massage progressed, so too did the relationship
between his/her hands and my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next
thing I knew, my upper thighs were getting oiled up and the hands were slowing
getting conspicuously close to my genital region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not going to lie: there was some definite
finger-to-ball grazing going on, but at this point I was in too deep (pun fully
intended)!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They say massages are
supposed to be a relaxing experience...I can assure you this was not!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since I am clearly a sucker for punishment,
we realized we didn't have any small bills to tip the masseuses and trying to
ask someone to make change for you who doesn't speak any English is next to
impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we had to go to a shop
down the road to break our bill so that we could come back and tip my burly
provider of pleasure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I just
couldn't stay away from those magic hands!</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once we dropped the last bit of our money on some ice cream
cones, we hopped in a cab to the airport for our impending flight to Hong
Kong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.samuiairportonline.com/" target="_blank">Koh Samui Airport</a></i> is actually rated as one of the top ten airports
in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has a beautiful
open-air concept and is a truly "tropical" airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite its superior ranking, we were
informed that our flight had been delayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Due to the setback, we were each given a voucher that we could use in
the airport shops for either food or a massage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I will let you guess which one Colleen and I opted for!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After killing as much time as we could we
headed to the boarding gate, only to be greeted by even more delays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again though, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the Koh Samui Airport </i>stepped up and kept the grumpy passengers
happy with free snack food and refreshments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Following multiple postponements, our flight did eventually
depart and we touched down in Hong Kong shortly after midnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We grabbed a cab to the<a href="http://www.pandahotel.com.hk/en/" target="_blank"> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Panda Hotel</i> (yes, that was the real name)</a> and seemingly passed an endless
supply of skyscrapers along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
knew Hong Kong was densely packed, but it is truly the definition of a concrete
jungle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since WiFi was atrociously
priced at $15 a day in our hotel, we ventured out into the Hong Kong night in
search of a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">McDonald'/</i>free WiFi,
because let's be real, everyone needs to visit <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">McDonald's </i>three times a day. Am I right?</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~ </span></div>
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</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6iMuvMs96de9FtLQGRYEBAWCrnil794I1LqLhi1aZr1qyCQMysL5_UziI1LztIIim913yo-NhqMgN42CmWG7LJtkgNG_hdAUnh_cyt0fxl2ZiCIjak7skf3om0beKybawJi7NFgel7TQ/s1600/DSC05190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6iMuvMs96de9FtLQGRYEBAWCrnil794I1LqLhi1aZr1qyCQMysL5_UziI1LztIIim913yo-NhqMgN42CmWG7LJtkgNG_hdAUnh_cyt0fxl2ZiCIjak7skf3om0beKybawJi7NFgel7TQ/s1600/DSC05190.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beauty that is Hong Kong.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZyU9GXVwHqCWNdye86ZD0L-s6EWVLq01OllIMcMK4Ag_JaKvPfEsbJu6Dr7TWXN411QHnDcnWPA0Xg4AVZ1I-1XK2R4mi8RoERzWJJnnY0chGKjDViwNouRn0hr8jA7TQsNyinoWKJk-W/s1600/DSC05206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZyU9GXVwHqCWNdye86ZD0L-s6EWVLq01OllIMcMK4Ag_JaKvPfEsbJu6Dr7TWXN411QHnDcnWPA0Xg4AVZ1I-1XK2R4mi8RoERzWJJnnY0chGKjDViwNouRn0hr8jA7TQsNyinoWKJk-W/s1600/DSC05206.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pack'em in as tight as you can!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRgivzPUBEPNEQgw5yjlHIIkfzbWXJtrNmg7d8kojbaf2WkSDCl44rb0KDTQ_-g6kMsvEoCpm2SRNjj8JagMwYdqGFTpBUU22Maf1xovYYAZUPcSQCouUF4bzA0AaMkV7_IJ2QtOoQuRl9/s1600/DSC05207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRgivzPUBEPNEQgw5yjlHIIkfzbWXJtrNmg7d8kojbaf2WkSDCl44rb0KDTQ_-g6kMsvEoCpm2SRNjj8JagMwYdqGFTpBUU22Maf1xovYYAZUPcSQCouUF4bzA0AaMkV7_IJ2QtOoQuRl9/s1600/DSC05207.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well at least there's no snow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-43179895858438686212014-04-21T14:30:00.000-04:002014-04-21T14:30:36.109-04:00Day 94- My Girlfriend Sleeps In A Bug Net In Hotel Rooms. I Say No More.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that Colleen had gotten her diving fix, we were safe to
leave Koh Tao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, I would stay
there forever but alas, we had to travel onwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were catching a ferry to one of the
neighboring islands, <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thailand/ko-samui" target="_blank">Koh Samui</a>, as we had booked a flight from there to Hong
Kong the following afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In true
Thai fashion, one of the two ferries that operates between Koh Tao and Koh
Samui was out of commission for the day, so there was only a 3pm ferry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Due to the sweltering heat and our extreme
whiteness, Colleen and I passed the time before our boat ride by bouncing
between various restaurants in an attempt to stay out of the sun and consume as
many refreshing drinks as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There would be many things I was going to miss about Thailand (cheap
beer, great weather, etc.), but riding on their ferries was not one of these things!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With the final ferry ride of our vacation behind us, we
headed to our hotel for our last night in Thailand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were staying at what appeared to be a
beautiful beachside hotel, the<em> </em><a href="http://samuihotels.impiana.com.my/" target="_blank"><em>Impiana Chaweng.</em></a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lobby, pool, and
beachside dining all looked spectacular, but unfortunately for us when we went
to check-in we were told our room was not yet ready as it was "under repair".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only imagine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For our troubles we were given a four course
Thai meal that consisted of lots of nasty shit like fish soup, random shellfish
and other stuff that had probably just washed up on shore that week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even the ice cream they gave us for dessert
sucked!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After dinner we were given the
keys to our "repaired" room, although it was a safe assumption that
they had spent the entire renovation budget on making the lobby nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The room was dated, dirty, and had a solid
collection of Colleen's favorite...flying insects!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seeing as how it was our last night in Thailand for the foreseeable
future, we decided to catch the 10pm shuttle bus into <a href="http://www.kosamui.com/chaweng-beach/" target="_blank">Chaweng Beach</a>, the main
shopping and nightlife area on the island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Since our complimentary dinner earlier was not to our liking, we had a
second dinner consisting of some good old-fashioned Thai pizza!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since we were leaving tomorrow we did our
best to rid ourselves of some of our Thai currency by purchasing useless
souvenirs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen then retreated to the
salon for one last budget manicure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While she entertained herself by getting her nails done, I decided to
just go for a walk around the area by myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I quickly discovered that as a white male this was a terrible idea, as I
was constantly being harassed by ladyboy hookers, Russian hookers, and regular
female Thai hookers!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you love paying
for sex, then Chaweng Beach is the place for you people!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually I just gave up on my exploration
and went back to the salon where Colleen was and waited outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As she was finishing up the power went out in
the entire area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a random
observation, but if you ever have the opportunity to be in a bar/club district
while the power goes out, take it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was really surreal to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kind of eerie
actually.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once power was restored and Colleen was prettied up, we headed
across the street to some little bar called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.tripadvisor.ca/Attraction_Review-g676072-d4267698-Reviews-Legends_Bar-Chaweng_Ko_Samui_Surat_Thani_Province.html" target="_blank">Legends</a></i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figure with a name like that you can't go
wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My final cheap beers in Thailand
tasted just as good as the first ones, and I am sure I will be back; one day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back at the hotel, Colleen was still petrified about the
fact that there were a few bugs in our room earlier (pretty sure they were all
dead now) and she thus decided to sleep in a bug net.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, my girlfriend sleeps in a bug net in
hotel rooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paranoid? Just a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But hey, we've all got our quirks!</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiCHpY4NhvhqQNofjl5f6oxx2Igf6qNbCkb2t6O17c-92YYRCwbVTk-_PKxUuleVyCfiss-MgKs__ODoR8ob83xFbrCby3bZYE-HTlPhyphenhyphen9rsRvgUSV7mWskjK5yLcinWMsQbT6BC8tfEgc/s1600/DSC04974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiCHpY4NhvhqQNofjl5f6oxx2Igf6qNbCkb2t6O17c-92YYRCwbVTk-_PKxUuleVyCfiss-MgKs__ODoR8ob83xFbrCby3bZYE-HTlPhyphenhyphen9rsRvgUSV7mWskjK5yLcinWMsQbT6BC8tfEgc/s1600/DSC04974.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen protecting herself from the non-existent critters in our room inside her bug net!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tomorrow we were venturing on to the last leg of our trip,
two nights in Hong Kong, before flying back to Canada.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-75885923516836929742014-04-19T20:27:00.001-04:002014-04-19T20:27:35.636-04:00Day 93- I Need To Work On My Disguise Skills.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With Colleen out on her final diving expedition, I was left
yet again on my own to try and entertain myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shockingly, I actually managed to get up
before 9:30am, which for me with no real commitments is a minor miracle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After attacking the breakfast buffet solo, I
decided the punishing walk I had subjected myself to the previous day was not torturous
enough and I thus ventured out on another solo hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time I opted to head north instead of
south and made my way up to the <a href="http://www.nangyuan.com/" target="_blank">Nang Yuan</a> lookout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All-in-all it was an <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hour and a half round trip, and like my
previous trip it was full of perspiration and panting galore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a solid reminder of why all the smart
people were driving mopeds, and only IDIOTS(!) like myself would dare to walk
such hilly routes in these extreme temperatures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Around lunch time I headed up to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Roctopus</i> headquarters to round up my amphibious girlfriend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This turned in to me sitting around for over
an hour waiting for her as their dive boat was having technical
difficulties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she finally did show
up, we celebrated the fact that she had not drowned by having one last lunch at
the adjoining restaurant, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.tripadvisor.ca/Restaurant_Review-g303910-d2323454-Reviews-Mint_Kitchen-Ko_Tao_Surat_Thani_Province.html" target="_blank">Mint Kitchen</a></i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I'm sure Colleen was going to miss the
diving when we departed Koh Tao the next day, I was going to miss the deep
fried chicken with cashew nut that they served there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not a huge Thai food fan, but this shit
was Deadly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yes, that is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">deadly</i> with a capital
"D".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWxM2olPSh7-Aw58m2cORld7Tqf-0X4YCUNTPmNt1z6AK36Ec4jfBD5vpK8ldsX7S6c8oIpRF26SdZuxghWgKHcjDjLJVT5HPfaYEn89v2KV7Cd0foSks3YqTrqurxb9BuAM1XkRpe5qI/s1600/IMG_2449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWxM2olPSh7-Aw58m2cORld7Tqf-0X4YCUNTPmNt1z6AK36Ec4jfBD5vpK8ldsX7S6c8oIpRF26SdZuxghWgKHcjDjLJVT5HPfaYEn89v2KV7Cd0foSks3YqTrqurxb9BuAM1XkRpe5qI/s1600/IMG_2449.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of diving...and underwater selfies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That afternoon we met up with Colleen's friend Ashley from
Kamloops and her boyfriend Joel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since
Colleen and I are both gluttons we decided to go out for a second lunch with
them complimented by some adult beverages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By this point in the day I was already starting to reach my
"outdoor quota" and after our second lunch we retreated back to the
hotel to enjoy the splendors of air conditioning before our final night on this
beautiful island.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once we gathered ourselves and decided we had abused our air
conditioning enough, Colleen and I sauntered down to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chopper's </i>for the last time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a safe assumption that it was going to win the award on our
vacation for the "most visited bar".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It would probably win in a landslide come to think of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After meeting up with our old buddy Prat, and
Ashley and Joel, it was time to take advantage of the two-for-one beers and
two-for-one daiquiris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My father always
told me that half price beers taste twice as good; and I can't say I can argue
with him on this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shortly
thereafter we said our teary goodbyes to Prat and headed out into the night
with Ashley and Joel.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before we checked out the nightlife, I got Ashley to take us
by their accommodations to show Colleen the kind of places I had thought we
would be staying when we first landed in Bangkok a couple of months ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For 300 baht a night ($10 Canadian) they had
a private room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mind you, they had a
shared bathroom, no A/C, a mattress on the floor, no TV and probably an
assortment of creepy crawlers; but hey it was 1/10th the price of what we were
paying!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say the words
"budget accommodations" are not a part of Colleen's vocabulary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After our sightseeing of how "real backpackers"
travel, the four of us decided to do a tour of some of the local beach
bars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A couple of the places were
offering promotions like "ladies night" and "one free drink".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wisely, Colleen and Ashley were able to
exploit one of the bars' "one free drink ticket per customer" policy
by reentering the bar a second time with disguises on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by disguises I mean they slightly altered
their hairstyles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But hey, whatever works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not surprisingly, this same strategy did not
bode so well for Joel and I, and alas the men were made to pay for their
drinks.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On our way back to
our hotel we stopped and had what would probably be our last "street
pancakes" of our vacation and some pad Thai.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On an unrelated note: we also saw a dude
almost get run over by a moped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we
were walking home, a heavily intoxicated guy on a scooter hit the guy walking
in front of us on the footpath and proceeded to just keep driving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not sure what the drinking and driving mopeds
on pedestrian walkways law is, but I'm sure it can't be legal!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-73148017830686734842014-04-18T18:47:00.000-04:002014-04-18T18:47:11.748-04:00Day 92- Canadianness. Should Be A Word.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As is often the case after a night of heavy consumption, the
next day was a complete write-off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do
not have the science to prove it, but I am almost 100% certain that every
hangover I encounter as I get older seems to be worse than the last one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen and I eventually rolled out of bed
sometime after lunch and headed out for some pasta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not surprisingly, my stomach was having none
of it and it was a mission and a half just to force a little bit of food
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This futile attempt at eating was
followed by a return trip to bed where we spent the bulk of the day pondering
the poor life decisions we had made the night before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzeJloY-On_WSgZCNbLQQVY4ZtEAzUnXhMIxqS5LmkxGKNNvEv6L4hGzoIi2_3BMRI8AsaObEAWyEILxewqO14AvH5lFHimePG7wKrG7EqaQYE5_kAWvbF_tb1LLHhXhIi274VlBvqX0yM/s1600/DSC04973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzeJloY-On_WSgZCNbLQQVY4ZtEAzUnXhMIxqS5LmkxGKNNvEv6L4hGzoIi2_3BMRI8AsaObEAWyEILxewqO14AvH5lFHimePG7wKrG7EqaQYE5_kAWvbF_tb1LLHhXhIi274VlBvqX0yM/s1600/DSC04973.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sums up our feelings for the day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Only after dinner time were we able to finally collect
ourselves enough to make a public appearance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We had arranged to meet Amber, Amy and some others at <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Banyan Bar</i> for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen introduced Amber to the amazing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poutine" target="_blank">world of poutines,</a> and all the Canadianness that comes with it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Contrary to the previous night, none of
us<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>were really in the mood to drink as
we were all pretty brain-sore from the night before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back at the hotel , it was an early night for Colleen as she
was going diving the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Myself,
well I did manage to get a couple of "hotel bed beers" into me before
giving myself to the night.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-12012072442108011522014-04-17T17:54:00.000-04:002014-04-17T17:54:10.052-04:00Day 91- Finding Out Your Friend Is Engaged While You're Sleeping Naked On The Toilet. All In A Day's Work.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Rising at some ungodly hour by vacation standards, Colleen
set off for the dive shop on her own as she was heading out on an all day
diving trip to <a href="http://www.roctopusdive.com/special-offers/sail-rock/" target="_blank">Sail Rock</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sail Rock is
apparently the premier dive site in the Gulf of Thailand, although I sadly may
never know for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Single tear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the woman out of my hair for the second
straight day in a row(!), I decided to do what I do best: sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometime, a few hours later I eventually
worked enough energy to decide that I was going to go for a lengthy walk to the
next beach over, <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.ca/Attraction_Review-g303907-d3954439-Reviews-Mae_Haad_Beach-Ko_Phangan_Surat_Thani_Province.html" target="_blank">Mae Haad</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickly
concluded that my plan from the previous day of just sitting inside and
watching TV was the much smarter thing to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Between the sweltering tropical heat and my fat ass, it was a born
recipe for lots of drink breaks and much panting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow I made it back to <a href="http://www.kohtaoonline.com/maps/sairee.htm" target="_blank">Sairee Beach</a> (where
we were staying) and rewarded myself for the excellent workout by promptly
packing on all the calories I had just lost and then some!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSwT28lNDk24kzeH-b84FwUF9H2iaSyuHasgL83leP_cjfvvFvOdKV_Nz_ciPWVX_Bvw58zHgEVqPNO7wxl-ECAKjnK50E6JdWKcxzQ0dB6i-Kuj5VVILPV6FV8VXY-36H6H2vJ4e_qNt/s1600/P2170192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSwT28lNDk24kzeH-b84FwUF9H2iaSyuHasgL83leP_cjfvvFvOdKV_Nz_ciPWVX_Bvw58zHgEVqPNO7wxl-ECAKjnK50E6JdWKcxzQ0dB6i-Kuj5VVILPV6FV8VXY-36H6H2vJ4e_qNt/s1600/P2170192.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen and her Sail Rock crew. We can only assume I was still sleeping at this point.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My fair lady made it back around dinner time and she was a
little bummed out because the underwater visibility that day was garbage and
she didn't get to see as much marine life as she had hope for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh well, nothing like a little alcohol to
wash the pains of a disappointing dive day away!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With that we headed back to old faithful, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chopper's Bar and Grill</i>, as there was a
big shindig there with lots of the people Colleen had been diving with that
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our buddy Prat was there, my lifesaver
Amber, as well as Colleen's new friend Amy she had met diving that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After slamming a few drinks there, we moved
on to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djiKTnMgtR0" target="_blank">Banyan Bar</a></i>, an outdoor bar (see
hut with some picnic tables setup) that is a spot where many of the dive
instructors and such hangout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was
complimented by some beers and a few servings of a mixed drink called a
"tight bastard" which I still have no idea what it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can safely say this was the beginning of
the end for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA0y2vqpJfaAdqDMX8eTZD7FpIxnRpd-cdHYQ25AM-89oIOCtMM55qYwSu8stSYTAp7vnWxKeny2Hd5_hQXRqWpzRnZeEcYa8wytQNAKuvFBIZER9g3cC8VU_3R9bYhxGQDtmmA6rlGqjn/s1600/IMG_2093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA0y2vqpJfaAdqDMX8eTZD7FpIxnRpd-cdHYQ25AM-89oIOCtMM55qYwSu8stSYTAp7vnWxKeny2Hd5_hQXRqWpzRnZeEcYa8wytQNAKuvFBIZER9g3cC8VU_3R9bYhxGQDtmmA6rlGqjn/s1600/IMG_2093.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amber, myself, Colleen, and Amy. If only I had stopped there.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">From there, we somehow got dragged into going to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.mayabeachclubkohtao.com/" target="_blank">Maya Beach Club</a></i>, another one of the
island's fine drinking establishments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was around this time that things started to get a little fuzzy and
all I remember was me dropping beer bottles (and naturally walking away as if I
had nothing to do with it) and Colleen professing her love for all those around
her. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Class act we are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently the party didn't stop there for
us, and we hit up another club, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.kohtao.asia/food-and-drink/bars-and-night-clubs/fishbowl-beach-bar.html" target="_blank">Fish Bowl</a>,</i>
and then visited our buddy from a couple of nights earlier, the "Pancake
Man".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'd be lying to you if I said
I remembered any of this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Later that night back at the hotel (we shall assume Colleen
carried me back there), I decided to strip down to my birthday suit and take
advantage of our expansive bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
only problem was I fell asleep on the can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While I was catching some much needed zzzzz's, Colleen logged on to her <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Facebook </i>and discovered that one of my good
friends, Derek Simpson, had just gotten engaged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I no doubt promptly went back to sleep in all
my naked gloriousness on my porcelain perch and instantly forgot about it.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Follow-up:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I woke up (in my bed FYI[!]) the next
morning I remember wondering to myself if in fact Derek had gotten
engaged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn't sure if I was dreaming
our not, as my mental skills were beyond non-existent by the end of the
previous night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was true, he was
engaged and he is now married to his lovely wife Vanessa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope she keeps a shorter leash on him than
Colleen does on me!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-18400328583287121172014-04-17T17:00:00.002-04:002014-04-17T17:00:47.252-04:00Day 90- Bed And Beers. My Two Favorite Things.<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Following <s>our </s>my rough night before and being the old
man that I am now becoming, I caught up on my beauty sleep before we headed
down to the hotel's restaurant for our typically crappy Thai breakfast
buffet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With my stomach full of
complimentary breakfast sausage, I walked Colleen up to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Roctopus Dive</i> shop as she was going out
to do some fun dives that afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were lots of familiar faces there, but sadly due to my popped ear
drum, the shower in my hotel room was the closest thing I was going to get to
aquatic activities these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While Colleen was out having fun, I spent the afternoon
lazing about on the internet and watching a crap load of TV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, I think since we first left North
America a couple of months prior, this was the longest stretch of time Colleen
and I had been apart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this was how I
chose to maximize my "alone time", by watching a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.discovery.com/tv-shows/bering-sea-gold" target="_blank">Bering Sea Gold</a> </i>marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
disgust myself sometimes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Colleen returned around dinner time and we decided it was
best if we took it easy as she had an early morning the next day courtesy of on
an all day diving trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This translated
to me laying in bed all night drinking beers and watching <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Discovery Channel</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">National
Geographic Channel </i>while Colleen snored like a boss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The glamorous lives we live!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQQby3HfGRBoUZqX2SnPnhwm8fZYXR0OBy2WDJ_xG99N_0skapEQmeKTD5S8icBuifYMQHouAmFqlmRuwYQctL3A5yy6KE0ukj4mAZVK0UY6mKRQYZQIHqicL5OR2Q9Ptz5_mqfh2ZhRx/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQQby3HfGRBoUZqX2SnPnhwm8fZYXR0OBy2WDJ_xG99N_0skapEQmeKTD5S8icBuifYMQHouAmFqlmRuwYQctL3A5yy6KE0ukj4mAZVK0UY6mKRQYZQIHqicL5OR2Q9Ptz5_mqfh2ZhRx/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This cat was the high point of my day. I call him "white storefront cat who thinks he is a dog who looks like Grumpy Cat". Catchy name if I say so myself.</td></tr>
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~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-88279110274290307612014-04-17T00:46:00.001-04:002014-04-17T00:46:35.054-04:00Day 89- Back To Koh Tao For The Ladyboy Cabaret. Oh, And To Do Some Diving Eventually.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mercifully our overnight bus ride from hell came to an end
around 3am as we were unceremoniously dropped off in some random parking lot in
the town of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chumphon" target="_blank">Chumphon</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one major
problem was that we were a good 15 kilometers from where we were told we would
be dropped off at the ferry terminal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The American guy from the bus (the guy banging back Valiums) kept
arguing with the bus driver and telling him that we were supposed to be get
dropped off at the pier, but alas his argument fell on deaf ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather conveniently there were a couple of
cabs waiting for us in the parking lot, which seemed just a tad bit suspicious
seeing as how it was 3am in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I'm sure the bus driver had a little deal with the cabbies going, but
hey who the hell am I to judge some scam artists trying to make a buck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually we bartered a group rate with one
of the cabbies who drove us in the back of his pickup truck down to the pier
for 50 baht (under $2 each).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As if our travel day had not been long enough, we still had
over three hours to kill before the ferry would be departing to <a href="http://www.kohtao.com/" target="_blank">Koh Tao</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we did our best to sleep at the
decrepit ferry terminal, it was really difficult as there were
backpackers/travelers laying everywhere and cockroaches running around like
they were thoroughbreds at the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Kentucky
Derby</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas, I passed the hours
talking to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Captain America</i> about his
time as a fisherman in Alaska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the
amount of pills he had popped that night though there was a good chance he
didn't remember a word he said to me and I wasn't even sure how the hell he was
still conscious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Boarding the ferry was a great feeling as it was the home
stretch before we made it back to Koh Tao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our reason for returning was that Colleen <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really, really, really</i> wanted to do some more diving before we left
and she had a minor love affair with the island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Better an island than another man I
suppose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen had also gotten wind
that one of her friends from Kamloops, Ashley, would probably be on the island
at the same time as us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well low and
behold, who did she run into on the ferry<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hint: it wasn't Bilbo Baggins</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was also happy to see that our heavily
medicated bus mates' valium had finally caught up with him and he was now
unconscious in front of the bathroom door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While I found it entertaining, I am not too sure the people who had to
use the shitter found it quite as enjoyable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Knowing what to expect this time around as we disembarked from
our three hour boat ride, the sight of hundreds of cabbies trying to coddle you
into their vehicles at the pier was not as overwhelming as before. Unlike on
our last visit, this time we were able to find our resort's shuttle driver who
dropped us off at our new home for the next few days, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.kohtaosimpleliferesort.com/" target="_blank">Simple Life Resort</a></i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since we
couldn't check in yet, we headed out for some lunch before making our way over
to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.roctopusdive.com/" target="_blank">Roctopus Dive</a></i> to get Colleen
registered for some scuba dives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
mentioned, I could not dive due to my ear problem that I had encountered,
although I'm sure everyone there just probably thought I was too chicken shit
(see: a little bitch!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSXtm0ZHKCuC5IitKJVfSgOeHFy7ShjK7h81tIONHDapqadB-Y7bUi-5fIpmoSEGc9pO15KsCrnHeTua_zzpL4k1fEh6zHguLXRsC80knwtAISf4r-BUauSf5nQu7Dsl60ghZ4YtLOHtb/s1600/DSC04970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSXtm0ZHKCuC5IitKJVfSgOeHFy7ShjK7h81tIONHDapqadB-Y7bUi-5fIpmoSEGc9pO15KsCrnHeTua_zzpL4k1fEh6zHguLXRsC80knwtAISf4r-BUauSf5nQu7Dsl60ghZ4YtLOHtb/s1600/DSC04970.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen's lovin' the digs!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5-D2XLtRHAlFEDZ92sbuQ2qx74aEoY2g_45Zi9A8INt79_r1ZMSVPiMjhOq4mSkJdtPZztr7OM_38EwQrN9hQRt3NVkPFxoojWqZoMKYicEbHkjKKmq1tDgr9BoJxRDIiQzDjLxvGOis/s1600/DSC04971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5-D2XLtRHAlFEDZ92sbuQ2qx74aEoY2g_45Zi9A8INt79_r1ZMSVPiMjhOq4mSkJdtPZztr7OM_38EwQrN9hQRt3NVkPFxoojWqZoMKYicEbHkjKKmq1tDgr9BoJxRDIiQzDjLxvGOis/s1600/DSC04971.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got my own urinal. Guess I can check that off my bucket list.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With the diving reservations all sorted, we headed back to
the hotel to check out our new digs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unfortunately we didn't beat the pouring rain and by the time we made it
to the hotel we were wetter than....<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(insert
your own joke here).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>On a positive
note, we had paid a little more than we were used to in Thailand for a room,
but boy was it worth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a huge
room, an even bigger bathroom, and my favorite part, I had my own urinal!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's when you know you have arrived in life:
you have your own urinal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently the
God of the Bathrooms felt it necessary for me to put the urinal to good use
that afternoon after my multiple attempts at napping were rudely interrupted by
my frequent urinations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could have
sworn I had a bladder infection, but I'm told such things are extremely rare in
men.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To make up for spending our Valentine's Day in the back of a
minivan the night before, Colleen and I went out to celebrate a day late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hit up a lovely little joint called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.portobellokohtao.com/" target="_blank">Portobello</a></i>, and it was definitely the
cheapest Valentine's dinner I had ever had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To eat at a "semi-fancy" restaurant with adult drinks
included, our bill still only came to $25!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that is why we love you Thailand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After dinner we headed over to the slightly less romantic confines of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.choppers-kohtao.com/" target="_blank">Chopper's Bar and Grill</a></i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There we met up with our old buddy Prat for a
bit, before he buggered off (some people have to work in the morning) and left
Colleen and I on our own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being the ever
persuasive <s>she-devil</s> woman that she is, Colleen convinced me that we
should head over to check out the ladyboy cabaret.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured it couldn't hurt (as long as I
didn't get left alone) and the next thing I knew we were sitting on the front
row of a cabaret show with a bunch of dudes dressed in women's clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I have mentioned in previous posts, some
of the ladyboys in Thailand are actually not that bad looking (all things
considered) and it is pretty easy to see how many a drunk tourists
"accidentally" end up taking home someone with a surprise package in
their pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having said that, many of
them are just straight up ugly, and have about as good chance of being
identified as a woman as <a href="http://www.complexmag.ca/sports/2013/06/where-are-they-now-your-favorite-wwe-stars-from-the-90s/chyna-joan-marie-laurer" target="_blank"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chyna</i> from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WWE</i></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We stuck it out at the cabaret show for a while, and lasted right to the
end of the show when they all popped their shirts off as part of the grand
finale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was extra fascinating as
some of them had actual breast augmentation while others just simply strutted
around in padded bras and were as flat as a six-year old boy when the tops came
off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of them appeared to
"tape" their junk (use your imagination)...that is unless they<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>had some heavy duty surgery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I
wasn't about to ask.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81fXBqYMfwrhIw2WDa4W_H3hOB6p9er7OBvECX98RvkuAHVp_A1Aov6E1ogjuzuvKnfF8YCk8NPocU2_B2irkw9IEKywzaZvw5NlLQauW3wvsI2MY-_ztT1hVcCugunpXf1mV543yfQnf/s1600/IMG_2042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81fXBqYMfwrhIw2WDa4W_H3hOB6p9er7OBvECX98RvkuAHVp_A1Aov6E1ogjuzuvKnfF8YCk8NPocU2_B2irkw9IEKywzaZvw5NlLQauW3wvsI2MY-_ztT1hVcCugunpXf1mV543yfQnf/s1600/IMG_2042.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ladies...or men...lookin' good!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YyFMOpRJ6GNNYYl-68mPpE8uzhqk1nKBthQnJBQ9a-K5HlZ_Aa2TAiHLwIp3h_kv4ZIfMeG6adrZ98265V6M1vAPJKZO82mU5pnh6ZpvH7O0ZPgMr_hvYFnt3ZP6hqRRS6ydWTaS7CFq/s1600/IMG_2072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1YyFMOpRJ6GNNYYl-68mPpE8uzhqk1nKBthQnJBQ9a-K5HlZ_Aa2TAiHLwIp3h_kv4ZIfMeG6adrZ98265V6M1vAPJKZO82mU5pnh6ZpvH7O0ZPgMr_hvYFnt3ZP6hqRRS6ydWTaS7CFq/s1600/IMG_2072.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hubba hubba.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJhHY3CaEL731wLLPn4LlvFkGxATgKjlDpXY9L3Oa9Ue3QNhadD5LYCM3ViS7D5BOj-5ElMW3-pxOsAvMvumzs13RXLaHOheiOGf55Crvf1G2PYKYtK91kFdjvshN1c1Z-uHudFZNbOuV/s1600/IMG_2077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJhHY3CaEL731wLLPn4LlvFkGxATgKjlDpXY9L3Oa9Ue3QNhadD5LYCM3ViS7D5BOj-5ElMW3-pxOsAvMvumzs13RXLaHOheiOGf55Crvf1G2PYKYtK91kFdjvshN1c1Z-uHudFZNbOuV/s1600/IMG_2077.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet dance moves.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-Lb1R7DTlGvSxtWKWIb1cMDI9Ml73CNMpxX7BhnKzgQmbG6gPX0elK5U0iCyF8PS758tstoEsUrthHnD9KWJXHz3KhM6x6U2h2J3DC5dVR6l-LAjkctRQ1ul5Px6JLGLo2adgOcx6S5E/s1600/IMG_2079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-Lb1R7DTlGvSxtWKWIb1cMDI9Ml73CNMpxX7BhnKzgQmbG6gPX0elK5U0iCyF8PS758tstoEsUrthHnD9KWJXHz3KhM6x6U2h2J3DC5dVR6l-LAjkctRQ1ul5Px6JLGLo2adgOcx6S5E/s1600/IMG_2079.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure who is photobombing who here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28AURup0tKfV6Ma5a86Zc225WbLepgDpLK9XLyVB0gY-RcqU1AFU1SDIigm63VtzxAUHZSJXbzvfG7LNwa9EnplaGzQXy4FPPgO4JxBVvmDxTfm0OqzuXCXq2Oms98vuP1YkwpYNzT87r/s1600/IMG_2081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28AURup0tKfV6Ma5a86Zc225WbLepgDpLK9XLyVB0gY-RcqU1AFU1SDIigm63VtzxAUHZSJXbzvfG7LNwa9EnplaGzQXy4FPPgO4JxBVvmDxTfm0OqzuXCXq2Oms98vuP1YkwpYNzT87r/s1600/IMG_2081.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen and I with one of the surgically enhanced "ladies".</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi41VT0H2vwhjkP41kfLwEfAe8_1PjaRW6BBVHnXiCCkuQMl2fJS1w_K0Z-y91csu2TuPYTCoaICTYPalj-r9OlgXJr5h96mY6DFk6ZPMy_CXyLnuSF8aBlvpTk3Pr30aeaFeCp-LX7cUUy/s1600/IMG_2083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi41VT0H2vwhjkP41kfLwEfAe8_1PjaRW6BBVHnXiCCkuQMl2fJS1w_K0Z-y91csu2TuPYTCoaICTYPalj-r9OlgXJr5h96mY6DFk6ZPMy_CXyLnuSF8aBlvpTk3Pr30aeaFeCp-LX7cUUy/s1600/IMG_2083.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen making new friends.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On our way back to the hotel from the show, we encountered a
group of young drunk males, and low and behold one of them was trying to pick
up a ladyboy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first the guy didn't
realize what he was doing, and then all of a sudden he yelled, "those are
dudes!!!". <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Classic.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By this point I
myself was pretty intoxicated and felt a visit to the<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NSZjisPOPFc" target="_blank">Youtube</a></i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NSZjisPOPFc" target="_blank"> sensation known as the "Pancake Man"</a> was in
order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, even Thailand now has their
own online stars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My drunkenness also
led to me failing in the bushes outside our room as I attempted to go all
stealth on some creature that was presumably hiding there and waiting to kill
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever it was, it survived, and
provided Colleen with a good laugh at my expense.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LD2c7z9_6sTefW5ARXofjr3zPPKFr6ieQ0OKJQU61LPK0NQHaZGatrwvT5gl1W5hzYWmeTVaOO3j80E9ekB5s9c0mwvtnYac3_2zPinE9JanQHBMptOovk7Zm54I3TRihiOkW_46Hd59/s1600/IMG_2084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LD2c7z9_6sTefW5ARXofjr3zPPKFr6ieQ0OKJQU61LPK0NQHaZGatrwvT5gl1W5hzYWmeTVaOO3j80E9ekB5s9c0mwvtnYac3_2zPinE9JanQHBMptOovk7Zm54I3TRihiOkW_46Hd59/s1600/IMG_2084.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Pancake Man" in action.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span><br />
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-61510117281833090412014-04-14T19:01:00.000-04:002014-04-14T19:01:14.545-04:00Day 88- All I Got For Valentine's Day Was Sexual Harassment In A Bus Station Bathroom.<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our final day of our week long sojourn through Malaysia was
upon us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were supposed to be getting
picked up around 4pm at our hotel by the <a href="http://limo-budapest.com/fotok/80minibus2.jpg" target="_blank">minibus</a> that would take us to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hat_Yai" target="_blank">Hat Yai,Thailand</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there we would transfer
to a bus and then on to a ferry the following morning which would take us back
to Colleen's favorite spot, Koh Tao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Since we had a few hours to kill, Colleen and I headed over to the local
shopping mall, which in Malaysia consists of a huge 10-storey complex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must say, those Malaysians sure know how to
build their retail centers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There we had
one last meal, complete with the terrible and unfriendly service we had come to
know and love from the lovely wait staff in Malaysia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seeing as how we still had a few hours to kill, we decided
to partake in one of my favorite pastimes, bowling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not sure if I like it because I can
consistently beat my girlfriend or because of it is classified as a sport and
requires very little exertion, but either way<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I DO LOVE BOWLING!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ended up
logging a solid four games, with my best stretch being four frames where I
bowled two strikes followed by two spares<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, I'm a big fuckin' deal!</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQquxvJ36eQr0DucRTWPACcFU0szu56tP-j-AJ4qKvhKaGnydkcUBVF7eHBXaRPLL2NkzFDG25U_BzP69utYKyOa_vmLcRw3z6JaA_TuMwgu19sobgvEjhW4sahNakgMV-q5Mq9lPmM27C/s1600/DSC04968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQquxvJ36eQr0DucRTWPACcFU0szu56tP-j-AJ4qKvhKaGnydkcUBVF7eHBXaRPLL2NkzFDG25U_BzP69utYKyOa_vmLcRw3z6JaA_TuMwgu19sobgvEjhW4sahNakgMV-q5Mq9lPmM27C/s1600/DSC04968.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why would Colleen let me leave our hotel dressed like this?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
<o:p><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4suWay2HR0JZEb4EXWb0cONqpFFUFiCxGdjdZ9gy5AZoLQFVaur8I-o_StUTlBoKqmfeTMf-GNtXTztk2O8mA4BdDc_wYiwEctP8zxhyvlAgLFexDkU0U9_wH1VRAG148tMrmOkE4qUD/s1600/DSC04966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4suWay2HR0JZEb4EXWb0cONqpFFUFiCxGdjdZ9gy5AZoLQFVaur8I-o_StUTlBoKqmfeTMf-GNtXTztk2O8mA4BdDc_wYiwEctP8zxhyvlAgLFexDkU0U9_wH1VRAG148tMrmOkE4qUD/s1600/DSC04966.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Born to bowl baby!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
</o:p><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once I felt I had adequately crushed Colleen's soul on the
hardwood we went back to our hotel to catch our ride to Thailand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was only one problem: our ride was
nowhere to be seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once our ride hit
the "half-an-hour late" mark we started to get a little worried that
we either a) got ripped off, b) they forgot about us, or c) they were just
running late (we were hoping it was the ladder).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After attempting to contact the travel agency
by phone to no avail, I ran down the street in a panic to visit the he-she travel
agent who had sold us the tickets the day before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She (we'll assume that's what this person
wants to be called) was able to get a hold of the driver who informed her that
he was just running late as some of the passengers were having trouble getting their
travel visas in order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An
hour-and-a-half after we were originally supposed to be picked up, our minibus
eventually showed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the driver
hastily loaded our luggage I attempted to track down Colleen who was charging
her IPhone somewhere in the hotel lobby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The driver actually started to drive away without Colleen and I, but
thankfully due to traffic I was able to track him down and tell him to wait 20
fucking seconds for me to gather my girlfriend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It would have been a long walk to Thailand is all I can say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The majority of our minibus ride consisted of us having to
listen to the guy beside us on his cell phone blab on-and-on to his buddy who
had obviously been in a severe moped crash and was now having to fly back to
Europe for medical care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sucks to be
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">So
I guess I could officially stop bitching about my moped accident now.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our official welcome back to Thailand
consisted of the most chaotic border crossing I have ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of the passengers in our vehicle had to
get out and cross the border by foot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow
despite the mass confusion and thousands of people everywhere all of the
passengers made it back to the vehicle and we motored on the rest of the way to
Hat Yai.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hat Yai is a city in southern Thailand that acts as a major
transportation hub for the region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once
here, we were dropped off at the bus terminal and the passengers all went their
respective ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen and I loaded up
on snacks for our impending all night bus ride and shortly before we were
scheduled to leave I decided to visit the men's room for a quick
urination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since it was late at night
the sprawling bathroom was empty, and there was probably space for 70 or 80
dudes to piss at the same time if they wanted to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I was standing at the trough-style urinal
relieving myself in the empty bathroom, a young Thai dude in his early twenties
entered and proceeded to come and stand right next to me (like shoulder to
shoulder!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He came up right beside me,
peered over my shoulder, and locked his eyes on my package.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or
frightened, but from the now joyous look on the young man's face he was clearly
enjoying himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickly tried to
finish my piss, although I am pretty sure I got a large amount of urine on my
clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bolted out of the bathroom
and ran the hundred or so yards to where Colleen was waiting and explained to her
how Brent Junior had just been violated by the prying eyes of a bus stop
pervert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was safe to say it was the
most bizarre "romantic" gesture anyone had ever bestowed upon me on a
Valentine's Day.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Attempting to put my traumatic life experience behind me, we
boarded the bus and prayed that the Male Body Inspector was not on our
bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Check.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What we ended up with instead were a Swiss
and American guy right behind us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Swiss guy was determined to get drunk and the American was popping generic Valiums
like they were going to expire any minute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Rather nonchalantly <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he offered
Colleen and I <a href="http://drugabuse.com/library/the-effects-of-valium-use/" target="_blank">some of his magic pills,</a> but alas we decided that we didn't need
to develop any new habits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bus
itself was quite old and the seats were terribly uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Factor in that Colleen had some inconsiderate
broad in front of her who decided to put her seat ALL THE WAY BACK and you have
a recipe for a long, sleepless night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The bus' overhead air conditioning system also happened to be leaking in
a bunch of random spots and at one point the Swiss dude woke up from his
drunken slumber to discover that he was covered in water!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bathroom on the bus was also a nightmare
as it was so small<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that I couldn't
figure out how to crouch inside and take a piss at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Factor in that the bus was shaking quite a
bit and you can guess where the majority of my fluids ended up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I'll
give you a hint: my clothes.</i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All of these glorious factors piled on top of one another eventually
led Colleen and I to start getting a little snappy with one another and it is
safe to say, while it wasn't the most romantic Valentine's Day, it was one we
were never going to forget!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-65495994067525906712014-04-13T15:30:00.004-04:002014-04-13T15:33:50.961-04:00Day 87- Have No Fear People: The Lost Art Of Scrotum Taping Is Alive And Well In Malaysia.<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Never ones to unnecessarily wake up early, Colleen and I
slept in yet again before heading down to the hotel restaurant for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not surprisingly the restaurant clientele
consisted of the two of us and 500 Chinese tourists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How the two of us were not yet fluent in
Mandarin I do not know.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having visited most of the city's main tourist spots the day
before, the one feather in our cap we were missing was a tour at the <a href="http://www.cheongfatttzemansion.com/" target="_blank">"Cheong Fatt Tze Mansion".</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, sounds
exciting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen and I showed up at
said mansion for the lunchtime tour expecting there to be a handful of
people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, we were greeted by a
group of over 100 people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just goes
to show the power that<a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/" target="_blank"> </a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/" target="_blank">Lonely Planet</a> </i>travel
guides have and how if they decide you are one of the <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/ireland/travel-tips-and-articles/76757" target="_blank">"top ten mansions in the world"</a> the masses will follow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The tour itself was pretty unspectacular, as we had one tour guide for
the entire group trying to yell over everyone with no microphone or voice
amplification system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen and I both
lost interest pretty quickly and before we knew it we were wandering off from
the tour group and taking silly pictures in an attempt to entertain
ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually even this got too
tedious and we decided to just walk out on the tour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Problem solved.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0QGlc_WXtv9YBRO3aD7wzZ_9Pc4FDU31cZ6vkwViQdaz9xMPKWiM7EpjR3uLXFFUGGMtaS-Ea-5llgLukcYUgJ47Kw6fg8vEc3437kZz_P5XLU-6Snnh1LGBxGfbPeOrQVD_6REbwOfD/s1600/DSC04940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0QGlc_WXtv9YBRO3aD7wzZ_9Pc4FDU31cZ6vkwViQdaz9xMPKWiM7EpjR3uLXFFUGGMtaS-Ea-5llgLukcYUgJ47Kw6fg8vEc3437kZz_P5XLU-6Snnh1LGBxGfbPeOrQVD_6REbwOfD/s1600/DSC04940.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All it takes is a Lonely Planet recommendation and BOOM! your boring attraction is a hit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuaW55fRenNYWYhoCrNDKeqcbu7f_FxJ_xalyeRNLUJn7y6G8sMjcJAfnBP33rqj39tj7HUWgqZYx2usA2hDxVWnAwAl3ZlMO_HyAtrHo4BOJXhG5ZmIurNd0kKZaVkCPala3HPXN8Suu/s1600/DSC04956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuaW55fRenNYWYhoCrNDKeqcbu7f_FxJ_xalyeRNLUJn7y6G8sMjcJAfnBP33rqj39tj7HUWgqZYx2usA2hDxVWnAwAl3ZlMO_HyAtrHo4BOJXhG5ZmIurNd0kKZaVkCPala3HPXN8Suu/s1600/DSC04956.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let's just take selfies instead.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNLsc6bx4sUZA5WxAEVedsLmaTD0AMfEHNbMICE6e1kwmXeuZgJF9mNYXV2Rn1ngPk2c2s-nnpTXoj4qAqgfEcLznAN9o6Kgt9Zbtkn_L1a7L0jaVOl60wdL3Ff0foe8pLc9zraf2swP2/s1600/DSC04942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNLsc6bx4sUZA5WxAEVedsLmaTD0AMfEHNbMICE6e1kwmXeuZgJF9mNYXV2Rn1ngPk2c2s-nnpTXoj4qAqgfEcLznAN9o6Kgt9Zbtkn_L1a7L0jaVOl60wdL3Ff0foe8pLc9zraf2swP2/s1600/DSC04942.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clearly I was loving the tour. My eyes say it all.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Free from the mansion, we headed back to our hotel to
attempt to map out the next day's travel plans (but not before we stopped off at...<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Subway</i> of course).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our plan was to head back to Koh Tao (the
diving island) in Thailand as Colleen really wanted to get in some more diving
before heading to Canada the following week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Due to the Chinese New Year, all of the flights and more desirable
travel arrangements were sold out or out of our price range so we headed down
the street to the local travel agency.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While the shop had some very attractive prices in their windows, inside
I was greeted by possibly the ugliest he-she (see: transsexual, ladyboy, etc) I
had ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the last couple of
months I had seen my fair share of men who now "identified"
themselves as women, and to be honest some of them weren't that bad
looking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean shit, you pump enough
drinks in to someone and it's not surprising that you are constantly hearing
stories of foreign men who pick up "women" at the bar and take them
home only to discover that they are packing some taped up heat in their thongs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyways, no amount of drinks was going to
make this boy pretty, but at least <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">he</i>,
or should I say <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i>, found us a good deal
for the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For $55 each we would
have to take a 4 hour ride in a minibus (large van), followed by an 8 hour
overnight bus ride, and then finally a 2.5 hour ferry ride before arriving in
Koh Tao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not exactly ideal, but hey it
would get us there.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWp1H3NwOxrazwwT9BmAYxWydBHmkTa7M6r5v0EdL_Y1PGpe2ksmVSUF0aMub7cT5NUR-eWlCLK8pSy7HZhIDfayUGxdKm0F8t37ao6apUG_UAklRicsReT7AaD7anVXnww_Lmit76ER7h/s1600/DSC04961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWp1H3NwOxrazwwT9BmAYxWydBHmkTa7M6r5v0EdL_Y1PGpe2ksmVSUF0aMub7cT5NUR-eWlCLK8pSy7HZhIDfayUGxdKm0F8t37ao6apUG_UAklRicsReT7AaD7anVXnww_Lmit76ER7h/s1600/DSC04961.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A final addition to our collection of pictures of Penang's spectacular street art.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In preparation for our big journey the next day, we spent
our last and third consecutive night at the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Red
Garden Food Paradise</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was pouring
rain all night so we took refuge there and just enjoyed the good, cheap food
and beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To top it off, we got the best
service we had had in Malaysia at the only place that wasn't charging an
automatic service charge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hell, the guy
sweeping the floors even stopped to fill my beer glass for me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that's service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I spent my last night in Malaysia watching
<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120591/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank">"Armageddon"</a> back in the hotel room, a sure sign of what the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>next day was going to feel like with all of
the less-than-first-class-travelling that awaited us.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-44185572029228827502014-04-12T21:24:00.000-04:002014-04-12T21:24:17.836-04:00Day 86- I Love When A Grown Man Pedals Me Around On An Oversized Tricycle.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Due to the ill effects of either the street food, jumbo
beers, or some combination of the two from the night before, Colleen and I both
slept in and were not feeling particularly hot when we woke up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To make matters worse, I discovered in the
newspaper that morning that we had missed a free performance the previous the
day from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bZkp7q19f0" target="_blank">everyone's favorite South Korean pop star, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psy</i></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psy</i>, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Youtube</i> legend himself was in town and we missed it. Damn it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fearing street food for the time being, we
opted to play it safe and have, you guessed it, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">SUBWAY</i> for breakfast!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Z7Wz0_461YQMc2dIMymbY8p1ww52jzmQeoZrYXZ5WyINSoL7AYeJPFEM523lN3BNiICwhiF7U08KuJ_OCdDNZZ4qC_JvrKf-Enhe_JUU3YV6DDuu0N2rmigxrySElbj7wHJF6agP9_66/s1600/DSC04904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Z7Wz0_461YQMc2dIMymbY8p1ww52jzmQeoZrYXZ5WyINSoL7AYeJPFEM523lN3BNiICwhiF7U08KuJ_OCdDNZZ4qC_JvrKf-Enhe_JUU3YV6DDuu0N2rmigxrySElbj7wHJF6agP9_66/s1600/DSC04904.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone loves Psy!<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7wpcgGXAFr4spjjeP0AFjHT57K2hc61lI3ZsF2-Oj3MnoJ81-cOCZjn9hxHxsyBOTQ-KH-QvC6yfEdhSClyVFZ4Z6VSoC0gTZhubVIMP5dG6rai9cl1l3h7A6yGfHX07igfhS3d1H2hi/s1600/DSC04878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7wpcgGXAFr4spjjeP0AFjHT57K2hc61lI3ZsF2-Oj3MnoJ81-cOCZjn9hxHxsyBOTQ-KH-QvC6yfEdhSClyVFZ4Z6VSoC0gTZhubVIMP5dG6rai9cl1l3h7A6yGfHX07igfhS3d1H2hi/s1600/DSC04878.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Chinese New Year!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-uKZMhmYpL3PS7Qe4osKQykXDsHKM4ZGKGFrgsP1xP_-wIvc-3hYAWHIqLdfFf_SH4NZ55VwLIEMiJ3B3IC7urUTU4rMAlXZAfgC3ZnTYfHs60CAb6ulRmO3DEeq_NdOLsF2tr6aCgcx9/s1600/DSC04909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-uKZMhmYpL3PS7Qe4osKQykXDsHKM4ZGKGFrgsP1xP_-wIvc-3hYAWHIqLdfFf_SH4NZ55VwLIEMiJ3B3IC7urUTU4rMAlXZAfgC3ZnTYfHs60CAb6ulRmO3DEeq_NdOLsF2tr6aCgcx9/s1600/DSC04909.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just like at <em>Winner's.</em><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNMIrUP-7DAGCrUQl6PEuzQPctbX5grpMJ7QuGZ5Uk6bVh_4xayYqHpkYwLhO5xUPOxz4RbX1sScDv5BP_sMkKTx6VkcHSzbwQb-KJf7FDjG_AC6rZO8S7gl30VjG0jufB-eLxz-hHun2/s1600/DSC04852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNMIrUP-7DAGCrUQl6PEuzQPctbX5grpMJ7QuGZ5Uk6bVh_4xayYqHpkYwLhO5xUPOxz4RbX1sScDv5BP_sMkKTx6VkcHSzbwQb-KJf7FDjG_AC6rZO8S7gl30VjG0jufB-eLxz-hHun2/s1600/DSC04852.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penang's less glamorous side.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We decided we were going to run the full gauntlet of tourism
activities that day, so after inhaling our subs we ventured out into the
stifling Malaysian heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being the ever
diligent walker that I am, I forced Colleen to navigate the city on my foot
with me, although as the drink breaks became more and more frequent we
eventually caved and hopped on the free tourist bus that does a loop of the
city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were attempting to head towards
the <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/" target="_blank">UNESCO world heritage site</a> and historic downtown <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>area of Penang, <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1223" target="_blank">George Town</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being
the ever-pathetic navigator that I am, I somehow led us to get off at the wrong
stop on a bus that is supposed to make such things easy for tourists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is turn led to the two of us having to
hike over a kilometer to our first official stop of the day, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Cornwallis" target="_blank">Fort Cornwallis</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen and I did the
requisite quick self-guided tour, grabbed a few pictures and then made the
executive decision that getting some ice cream was the far more satisfying
thing to do.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJ1JbKi-8CFAeboNSxx5EanBpE8zIiajir5YeGWlqmyXcUKhEFhsX9hUc8omy3udzwQy4HevyIgGUCvOFduQl3_0IlrZ2SevTT8urqUeBy-5KnrN68FYrSiaK3XV3NSE5W_tVv4fXdiRq/s1600/DSC04808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJ1JbKi-8CFAeboNSxx5EanBpE8zIiajir5YeGWlqmyXcUKhEFhsX9hUc8omy3udzwQy4HevyIgGUCvOFduQl3_0IlrZ2SevTT8urqUeBy-5KnrN68FYrSiaK3XV3NSE5W_tVv4fXdiRq/s1600/DSC04808.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not as exciting as this picture would have you believe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2rFpUPpjrsvYZFZ-MOu1fF4intdehR3pz1zNSnWQkU6-F6gwm_pLReLYJmJkjo610X2MsGt4qTQq1cC1oBqD4kS_UDCiP1B3oEuWvKitjrsVhWfcNPKPnodBDzXXscGiDyN5J5a2bksP/s1600/DSC04807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2rFpUPpjrsvYZFZ-MOu1fF4intdehR3pz1zNSnWQkU6-F6gwm_pLReLYJmJkjo610X2MsGt4qTQq1cC1oBqD4kS_UDCiP1B3oEuWvKitjrsVhWfcNPKPnodBDzXXscGiDyN5J5a2bksP/s1600/DSC04807.JPG" height="72" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside Fort Cornwallis.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnE3faG4vgu30GHDqrRpMB5ERyjsUarhoZcIg6A-uMAmetE_P_UEkZjN7CGw9uicoEimhXl1mMW_0eHQHrbN9wrKha6-0o0eU92C_0YjQhF64VSJRlCWxTUq2BIQwkEOVIVKkqnA6iGEL/s1600/DSC04813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnE3faG4vgu30GHDqrRpMB5ERyjsUarhoZcIg6A-uMAmetE_P_UEkZjN7CGw9uicoEimhXl1mMW_0eHQHrbN9wrKha6-0o0eU92C_0YjQhF64VSJRlCWxTUq2BIQwkEOVIVKkqnA6iGEL/s1600/DSC04813.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My fair lady!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sadly our run of picking bad tourist sites didn't end there
as we next stumbled upon the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://houseyce.com/who-was-yeap-chor-ee/" target="_blank">"House of Yeap Chor EE"</a>, which with a $4 admission price, seemed like a fair
price to pay for some air conditioning at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not surprisingly, the exhibits themselves
were quite boring and I never did manage to figure out who the hell the guy
was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I assume he was some kind of
prominent local business man, but why they turned his former residence into a
shrine I will never know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only
assume that this was of moderate interest to the Chinese tourists, but alas I
shall never know.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOU5AH-R1lcPDf_CceLYdEjQN0E5Co-ak8fSkZhbKeM1MYM97BnRtitH5QDh4xCzqY3vwyQnrKHI9wqUSP2y9WxC5lasT5SQvkl1_ZdPjtjzsxWkaO3Xxt-5iQbjGCCY-mDlEUOsfPe_d8/s1600/DSC04835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOU5AH-R1lcPDf_CceLYdEjQN0E5Co-ak8fSkZhbKeM1MYM97BnRtitH5QDh4xCzqY3vwyQnrKHI9wqUSP2y9WxC5lasT5SQvkl1_ZdPjtjzsxWkaO3Xxt-5iQbjGCCY-mDlEUOsfPe_d8/s1600/DSC04835.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most exciting house ever.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuL8QWGt0UyeEshFiQXAK1EUtmXi-xB1aWNDJCWpE1j5SgQJAryp4sE_jrd9LRfTnT7cVdh5f0T2rvz1nj5poHWzOM3y_T_vKyDEm0k4LXi6qzuK3yMY1WEp29vu1MDqmi7gtVnbMxUAz/s1600/DSC04839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuL8QWGt0UyeEshFiQXAK1EUtmXi-xB1aWNDJCWpE1j5SgQJAryp4sE_jrd9LRfTnT7cVdh5f0T2rvz1nj5poHWzOM3y_T_vKyDEm0k4LXi6qzuK3yMY1WEp29vu1MDqmi7gtVnbMxUAz/s1600/DSC04839.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen clearly loves it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Keeping with the theme of Chinese tourism, we next stumbled
upon one of many local temples, which as expected was quite busy with people
celebrating the Chinese New Year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having
had enough of walking in the sweltering heat, Colleen and I decided that
another form of transportation was in order: the trishaw!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trishaw (pictured below) is basically an
oversized backwards tricycle that has a pedal-powered driver on the back and can
accommodate a couple of passengers in the front.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We quickly negotiated a price of 40RM ($13
Canadian) with a driver who appeared to be on the plus side of seventy years
old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Between my vacation-sized ass and
Colleen, the two of us could barely fit in the seat and we were both feeling
bad for our driver who was having some trouble pedaling the two of us
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, the old man had to keep
getting off the bike to push it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
going to offer to switch places with him but then I remembered that I was a
lazy oinker and nixed that idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our <s>limo</s>
trishaw driver gave us a great hour-and-a-half tour of the city, although we
could only understand about fifteen percent of the words coming out of his
toothless mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One unique thing that
really stood out were these graffiti style paintings that were randomly placed
around the downtown core (see below).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each
painting would incorporate something from its surroundings, whether it be a motor
bike, window covering, or something else that was present in the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The paintings were obviously quite popular
and well known as each one usually had a group of tourists nearby waiting to
snap some pictures.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ6KPvz-1QAtTTn5Xpluo65sHqUiVJREXwcOnRMZEc87GV5DBUQ-9zqa2-j7Ddp2NbW5_yaxmcjnMv0tIO9DOruygl_m72mgy3JwCstBFbEDKEXJs7M_VszQjGUOVzmMsylzwLi6SR-KL/s1600/DSC04864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ6KPvz-1QAtTTn5Xpluo65sHqUiVJREXwcOnRMZEc87GV5DBUQ-9zqa2-j7Ddp2NbW5_yaxmcjnMv0tIO9DOruygl_m72mgy3JwCstBFbEDKEXJs7M_VszQjGUOVzmMsylzwLi6SR-KL/s1600/DSC04864.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen and our friendly, toothless driver/slave.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwys-3b-U1cOwaDTYVBBrTtsnx7hS_1tbl6ou9d9W4kx19qMFAGfe6xYBYL7vs4_yFUK9rVEoVCaQw5HtDlEJaiSFasXZepmPdV47HvQB79M49PKQqmKuxwj-8bb5ytwTKwVo-_vtf2efq/s1600/DSC04882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwys-3b-U1cOwaDTYVBBrTtsnx7hS_1tbl6ou9d9W4kx19qMFAGfe6xYBYL7vs4_yFUK9rVEoVCaQw5HtDlEJaiSFasXZepmPdV47HvQB79M49PKQqmKuxwj-8bb5ytwTKwVo-_vtf2efq/s1600/DSC04882.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor guy has to push US around!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the ninety minute mark I was starting to feel bad for our
driver and thankfully he dropped us by the <a href="http://www.visitpenang.gov.my/portal3/what-to-see/attractions/chew-jetty.html" target="_blank">Chew Jetty</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only assume his back was feeling
terrific that evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best part
about the Chew Jetty was our discovery of freezies for the first time in
Asia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, glorious, glorious
freezies!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As had become the norm in
Malaysia and Singapore, we got our daily afternoon rain storm and Colleen and I
quickly made our way to the bus stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After waiting over thirty minutes for the "Fifteen Minute Bus"
my cheap ass eventually caved to Colleen's wishes and we got a cab.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One thing we noticed in our first couple of
days in Penang was that all of the cabs are metered, but none of them actually
use their meters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So be warned
travelers, if you find yourself in Penang make sure to bargain your price
before the cab starts moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilcDmYtE1p3GYDMtiSZvtCBE8iDMGWlDHxzzPToyX_gfb2czRjjuOQKVxhiiPM7jc2a0-Jec-fKXonKKB_4SDHdWIyyFiHmLfupb4FmsiVcMz0nk0KV8M4qLTOkWhsYXo-KZDeeLnK1He5/s1600/DSC04895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilcDmYtE1p3GYDMtiSZvtCBE8iDMGWlDHxzzPToyX_gfb2czRjjuOQKVxhiiPM7jc2a0-Jec-fKXonKKB_4SDHdWIyyFiHmLfupb4FmsiVcMz0nk0KV8M4qLTOkWhsYXo-KZDeeLnK1He5/s1600/DSC04895.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best discovery of the day; definitely freezies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m8iVXJBssocxiVkF9Cr6V_lrKCibyYrQVetGf-Xa49E8pmQFFgngZqN6ymzxUPsFtQ0nzYOHQn1GS2XAOtJVQoyemUJQ1MEYpzA2E94nifQxQpw53vYJk5hDMn5pyHCukmVFIEjK68za/s1600/DSC04874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m8iVXJBssocxiVkF9Cr6V_lrKCibyYrQVetGf-Xa49E8pmQFFgngZqN6ymzxUPsFtQ0nzYOHQn1GS2XAOtJVQoyemUJQ1MEYpzA2E94nifQxQpw53vYJk5hDMn5pyHCukmVFIEjK68za/s1600/DSC04874.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9UfkDO-C4daE_by9NJoUT0WiEaD-JMLZiZtEgYWt6DElwF_SwlnZBJ-R1nX8h8mxvos5-nVEgUnbxBIHStTSKIGqN720sgsVK7SsThrQBYJjOi0GAYLBiO9YotM1eaU6Snt8dNJu_jSO/s1600/DSC04892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9UfkDO-C4daE_by9NJoUT0WiEaD-JMLZiZtEgYWt6DElwF_SwlnZBJ-R1nX8h8mxvos5-nVEgUnbxBIHStTSKIGqN720sgsVK7SsThrQBYJjOi0GAYLBiO9YotM1eaU6Snt8dNJu_jSO/s1600/DSC04892.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmgL0jHPWSowH6l4sfutFIewsPars545DZgZ6C1ZnWrWeh-OBLEx_dw6_AJSDzLLcxVEr3Vu2XrsyuguU-V7KebjE8zHD_mvPLVly-WQvxXrMzJLOCU8D0TCr7Yw2iqma8_MLxmY_bv4j/s1600/DSC04913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmgL0jHPWSowH6l4sfutFIewsPars545DZgZ6C1ZnWrWeh-OBLEx_dw6_AJSDzLLcxVEr3Vu2XrsyuguU-V7KebjE8zHD_mvPLVly-WQvxXrMzJLOCU8D0TCr7Yw2iqma8_MLxmY_bv4j/s1600/DSC04913.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMaIYefdaEqzd7c8AXjguw99qbnrVsiW2y7cX-WRpza72sXpxBBs4eAPHSlU9aUgSGrfxWfjN1oCn3LnA1a7MR0bt-Cc2mOswGvBGj6y4KJYjnJfKzFIybKvDUubJFArWqQGnz-xRtMzq/s1600/DSC04914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMaIYefdaEqzd7c8AXjguw99qbnrVsiW2y7cX-WRpza72sXpxBBs4eAPHSlU9aUgSGrfxWfjN1oCn3LnA1a7MR0bt-Cc2mOswGvBGj6y4KJYjnJfKzFIybKvDUubJFArWqQGnz-xRtMzq/s1600/DSC04914.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGp6dPbdfd6ICU9EUgBokz-VbxokLU-QdtuKxo9LtdPQ1ZXY3geqz9ZMaBkgYBK09S6PGWAfcrrIyUqmO6lh5kOh9WE64Gwiy6W9L5xr2QflhMtruRJULNQMaROC6Er-p3G3CHtNmnit5/s1600/DSC04910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGp6dPbdfd6ICU9EUgBokz-VbxokLU-QdtuKxo9LtdPQ1ZXY3geqz9ZMaBkgYBK09S6PGWAfcrrIyUqmO6lh5kOh9WE64Gwiy6W9L5xr2QflhMtruRJULNQMaROC6Er-p3G3CHtNmnit5/s1600/DSC04910.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
<tr></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since we had such a good time the night before at the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Red Garden Food Paradise</i>, we decided why
not do it again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we passed on the
"Claypot Frog Porridge", we did manage to secure ourselves some excellent
teriyaki chicken and steak complimented by a bucket of double-sized <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.carlsberggroup.com/Pages/default.aspx" target="_blank">Carlsberg </a></i>beers; and not to mention a
table beside a group of dudes who had a combined tooth total of 6 between the
five of them and were just getting absolutely shittered!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being the gluttons that we are though, that
was not enough and we had to dial up a round of watermelon and mangoes for our
second course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, and then waffles and
ice cream on our third go round to send us into a full on food and beer coma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heavenly bliss!</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMXK3Nr-8o5YImotK2ek1WCxKfLQLPbBshuNgf37WqHQsAniFbeW5e6-kUjPj6-n5DTq05AC3v0WCujXvOeYjifyNNpVNW1BO7xFeX95HrjaaTp9c6jBOsVePJfFYqkzHhsmsyRIhalZa/s1600/DSC04920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMXK3Nr-8o5YImotK2ek1WCxKfLQLPbBshuNgf37WqHQsAniFbeW5e6-kUjPj6-n5DTq05AC3v0WCujXvOeYjifyNNpVNW1BO7xFeX95HrjaaTp9c6jBOsVePJfFYqkzHhsmsyRIhalZa/s1600/DSC04920.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sounds promising.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgioSHFRkVu76myGeU7WpFKdrV9p-fKnCMvR311Iu6eHu4ZO_oaXc1yDkGawfnt_dszt70BvwUZs3Ob8XP5XbFeZjuEBzpAVJR3PszhIu_0-uw4Fi8SRHkczsRmJDS8nTNmzRdJ3YnPzVNb/s1600/DSC04922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgioSHFRkVu76myGeU7WpFKdrV9p-fKnCMvR311Iu6eHu4ZO_oaXc1yDkGawfnt_dszt70BvwUZs3Ob8XP5XbFeZjuEBzpAVJR3PszhIu_0-uw4Fi8SRHkczsRmJDS8nTNmzRdJ3YnPzVNb/s1600/DSC04922.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Course one of three.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmgL0jHPWSowH6l4sfutFIewsPars545DZgZ6C1ZnWrWeh-OBLEx_dw6_AJSDzLLcxVEr3Vu2XrsyuguU-V7KebjE8zHD_mvPLVly-WQvxXrMzJLOCU8D0TCr7Yw2iqma8_MLxmY_bv4j/s1600/DSC04913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
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~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-68890784996135006142014-04-11T20:45:00.001-04:002014-04-11T20:48:33.242-04:00Day 85- Off To Penang, The Night Food Market Capital Of Malaysia (Solid Claim To Fame).<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having successfully survived our first few days in Malaysia,
it was time for us to move upwards and onwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our goal was to travel back to Thailand via bus, but before we made it
back we were going to spend a few nights in the <a href="http://www.tourismpenang.net.my/" target="_blank">northern Malaysian city of Penang</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before leaving Kuala Lumpur,
Colleen and I hit up our local one-of-the-world's-largest-malls for some
grub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keeping with our theme of super
exotic eating we settled on a combination of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.boostjuicebars.com.my/" target="_blank">Booster Juice</a></i>, jumbo pretzels, and a mandatory visit to the local <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Subway</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Rather impressively it was the sixth time in the last nine days that
Colleen had eaten <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Subway</i>, and two of
the days she didn't have any were because we were on a cruise ship!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With our bellies full we headed over to the bus terminal,
which like many such things in Southeast Asia was a complete gong show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were people hassling you left, right,
and centre trying to sell you bus tickets and it appeared that there were
dozens of bus companies operating out of this one terminal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually we found what we thought was our
bus and lugged our heavier-by-the-minute backpacks over to the platform.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After our departure time had come and gone,
we were a little nervous and started asking around if anyone knew anything as
there were buses constantly coming and going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not surprisingly, no one had a fuckin' clue and the wifey and I were
left wondering whether or not we would make it to Penang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcimgSFxdejX27LjZtpkhSNsBryn2AbfBFQjkP8ZktlQXKsBmIqC96jvFB3Mj_UPntjksdMebdHCJjTxS_FYQZgY0vzdiYs-l9LqO_KRfCyjdu_TblJaFX1SBI3l4AOJT6bjQXfnKSpsD/s1600/DSC04789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcimgSFxdejX27LjZtpkhSNsBryn2AbfBFQjkP8ZktlQXKsBmIqC96jvFB3Mj_UPntjksdMebdHCJjTxS_FYQZgY0vzdiYs-l9LqO_KRfCyjdu_TblJaFX1SBI3l4AOJT6bjQXfnKSpsD/s1600/DSC04789.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This bus ride is so enjoyable. Not tight at all.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Amidst much confusion and chaos our bus did eventually show
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keeping up with our run of good
luck, Colleen and I got seated behind the world's two biggest assholes who
decided to put their seats ALL THE WAY back and effectively pin Colleen and I
to our seats for the entire six hour journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of course six hours wasn't enough time with the two <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sleeping Beauties</i> in front of us so the transportation gods decided
to throw in some Chinese New Year traffic to lengthen the drive and really test
our meddle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the time we pulled into Penang with our crushed lower
extremities, all we could think about was getting off that damn bus!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well that, and the fact that it seemed there
were no actual "Malay" people in this part of the country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every person seemed to be of Chinese or Indian
descent, which upon further inquiring I was told was quite normal for this
region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hmmm, good to know I guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen had again enforced her <s>womanly
charm</s> will on me and forced us to book into a large Western-style hotel,
<a href="http://www.cititelpenang.com/contact.html" target="_blank">the Cititel</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I shouldn't
complain about staying in nicer accommodations than I had originally planned
for, but damn was my now non-existent budget taking a beating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No straw huts and backpacker dives for this
broad!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once we were settled in we headed out into the streets to
check out Penang's regionally famous street food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are a number of night markets that are
chock full of vendors hawking all sorts of food from various regions of the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Initially we decided to skip said
markets and settled on some good old-fashioned hot dogs and hamburgers (sad, I
know).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After filling our guts with the
street grease, Colleen and I wised up and headed over to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.redgarden-food.com/content/home/index/site:redgarden-link:718" target="_blank">Red Garden Food Paradise</a></i>, one of the more famous night markets in
the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The place was full <s>of
Malaysian </s>Chinese people as far as the eye could see, which again just
seemed odd to me because I was completely ignorant to the large scale
immigration that had occurred here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never
ones not to eat even when we are full, the lady and I tackled a banana split
and some jumbo beers to wash it down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Colleen eventually decided that she was still hungry (even though she
hadn't finished her original dinner) and went out and scored herself a second
round of supper. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must say I hear the
same thing almost every night when Colleen (who inevitably never finishes her
food) thus proclaims herself to be hungry not one hour after dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nerve I tell ya!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Love is a funny thing.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpWoAKJCrciPpHdYKgYicPCMWrZWIuDcxOQzzmUvdguM2UeaRJzVqgYdOTmwpMk0lmcVHoPqK_nEM2yPJVnDwjzZd6oWdnfreRBNyLCUT6Gwu_t-0etVitK_dVlKET3Vis8WuvwzbBRfy/s1600/DSC04915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpWoAKJCrciPpHdYKgYicPCMWrZWIuDcxOQzzmUvdguM2UeaRJzVqgYdOTmwpMk0lmcVHoPqK_nEM2yPJVnDwjzZd6oWdnfreRBNyLCUT6Gwu_t-0etVitK_dVlKET3Vis8WuvwzbBRfy/s1600/DSC04915.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen striking her model pose outside the Red Garden Food Paradise.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmXLgwYluR7MPajPGhSyIPUUs4nt2MSc6XlLycfLHm244LlCaOon8eKTACvVRdC2HxbrAJGyo_jTYjHmqYGAlXFrxF12i4wu1iLbI028NQfpPD5Pv6KH62W158lYqtifUhblEZ90t6ZKz/s1600/DSC04918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmXLgwYluR7MPajPGhSyIPUUs4nt2MSc6XlLycfLHm244LlCaOon8eKTACvVRdC2HxbrAJGyo_jTYjHmqYGAlXFrxF12i4wu1iLbI028NQfpPD5Pv6KH62W158lYqtifUhblEZ90t6ZKz/s1600/DSC04918.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just your typical, everyday Malaysian food market.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_turlHPvm87WqqRGfWtbYMEz-7lfq7T4-D8vgyF7AQLHfsnmImfYK-NBPqIMqzSCa-dhcjAFbwJ6SsUQq0kDs5Cm5hNWeG7sL-Bw-vUynOYucOKTsW_N7xMibB-fyLMC40hmHpgWQAoyo/s1600/DSC04935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_turlHPvm87WqqRGfWtbYMEz-7lfq7T4-D8vgyF7AQLHfsnmImfYK-NBPqIMqzSCa-dhcjAFbwJ6SsUQq0kDs5Cm5hNWeG7sL-Bw-vUynOYucOKTsW_N7xMibB-fyLMC40hmHpgWQAoyo/s1600/DSC04935.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jumbo beers will get you every time!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-63759547047440168992014-04-10T23:18:00.002-04:002014-04-10T23:18:56.162-04:00Day 84- A Mosque, Hindu Sacred Site, Royal Malay Palace, and Subway Restaurant. Which One Doesn't Belong?<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On my previous day's failed attempt to find Chinatown, one
thing I did manage to find was the contact for a tour company known as
<a href="http://www.reggaetoursmalaysia.com/" target="_blank">"Reggae Tours".</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They offered a
tour of seven of the more popular tourist sites in Kuala Lumpur via a minibus
and it was only RM70 ($23 Canadian) for the full day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So even if it sucked, we still wouldn't feel
that bad!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before any touring could take
place though, we had to fuel up on Colleen's preferred choice of chow, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Subway</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The mall was extremely quiet as it was it was officially the first day
of the <a href="http://www.chinesenewyears.info/chinese-new-year-calendar.php" target="_blank">Chinese New Year</a> (February 10).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was definitely a bit of an eerie feeling (see: haunted mall).</span>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With our freshly inhaled foot longs resting in our belly, we
headed back to the hotel for our tour pickup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Although he was running quite late, our driver Jebb eventually showed up
with a crew of about eight or so other passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He informed us that both of his drivers had called
in sick that morning and that he was in fact the owner of the company and
rarely drove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It's good to know that calling in sick on a holiday is a worldwide
problem!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having Jebb as our driver
actually turned out to be a good thing (IMO) as he was super knowledgeable,
friendly, and was really good at answering all of my nerdy questions about
Malaysia and the sites we were visiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDO-sjhy1tKIqeS_f0f6AwVGlN9sBnU8wB25wpKXnClV8cidEV7Dr5qH24zh3Nb0jwX-9aIZEYMRQbfaNT-4M2qHeAd5gaVAg1a-JsCEP6ddB2gVdt3MyHPrS8P-acILLoQkc1kFKI6Wr/s1600/DSC04689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDO-sjhy1tKIqeS_f0f6AwVGlN9sBnU8wB25wpKXnClV8cidEV7Dr5qH24zh3Nb0jwX-9aIZEYMRQbfaNT-4M2qHeAd5gaVAg1a-JsCEP6ddB2gVdt3MyHPrS8P-acILLoQkc1kFKI6Wr/s1600/DSC04689.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen getting her "mosque" on.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first stop on our whirlwind day tour was at the
<a href="http://www.visitkualalumpur.com/cmarter.asp?doc=382&node=368" target="_blank">International Mosque of Malaysia</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had
to throw on some robes (cannot remember what they are called, no disrespect
intended Muslim people) before giving ourselves the quick self-guided
tour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With one site down, our second
stop of the day was Little India, which was a different Little India than the
one I had visited the day before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who
knew a city could have multiple Little India's?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was followed up by a visit to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Monument_%28Malaysia%29" target="_blank">National War Memorial </a>and then a
visit to the Royal Palace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by
visiting the <a href="http://www.visitkualalumpur.com/cmarter.asp?doc=380" target="_blank">Royal Palace</a> I of course mean that we just went to the outside
gates and stood there and stared at the guards or whatever they are that stand
there seemingly perfectly still all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I felt sorry for their horses more than anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They, like the people were meant to stand
there all day "at attention" if you will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of time to day dream about eating
carrots and visiting the glue factory I guess.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0BUYBPj319OAxYTTqY2zu2R3ypM4VsqGiooECCUclXKMi8YtwGMpSCXjR2nRCB2Eutuo6EXAz1Ml2uslzfd6i5esDrNITunTJNUr8tpUjIZQUeYmz2tfy549yymAnzBvMjMxn6AkM6n1/s1600/DSC04734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0BUYBPj319OAxYTTqY2zu2R3ypM4VsqGiooECCUclXKMi8YtwGMpSCXjR2nRCB2Eutuo6EXAz1Ml2uslzfd6i5esDrNITunTJNUr8tpUjIZQUeYmz2tfy549yymAnzBvMjMxn6AkM6n1/s1600/DSC04734.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not too sure what I'm doing here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VZO72I6t5BURVXpXU9yx26C6WXAxvSEhnhTfk8uUrfaG6lM6_e8kuMofAqZM5ncZ35aVlOIigrhDFkjpwFIVHpX0od19GgWXNJ1mVM12DMQ4Ez4OTibqKJJUG2Xz246dICXRS9kSjtpO/s1600/DSC04717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VZO72I6t5BURVXpXU9yx26C6WXAxvSEhnhTfk8uUrfaG6lM6_e8kuMofAqZM5ncZ35aVlOIigrhDFkjpwFIVHpX0od19GgWXNJ1mVM12DMQ4Ez4OTibqKJJUG2Xz246dICXRS9kSjtpO/s1600/DSC04717.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">War Memorial. Looks like every other war memorial around.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHV8ao2r4uUpxn431WY2CHBMKlVzPtXAOGeB2lwxU4H4xVyxoTqwAH2WqdWM1FIql4mRxr4NL13L_E-kMG1BYpevNbuoo1HyLFTs8cTWTjnhdnE9UzuX7SKOSaHwQa8kJooHBjRnLlIfY/s1600/DSC04736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHV8ao2r4uUpxn431WY2CHBMKlVzPtXAOGeB2lwxU4H4xVyxoTqwAH2WqdWM1FIql4mRxr4NL13L_E-kMG1BYpevNbuoo1HyLFTs8cTWTjnhdnE9UzuX7SKOSaHwQa8kJooHBjRnLlIfY/s1600/DSC04736.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So close, yet so far from the Royal Palace.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmUoSR4XXidpLZmQi-o_z7uc73jLRhqP4tph-KNnU0qTxILyEWs3Zb_cF5tNJrULcK3SC80dk8j1Tuhg0Gp80OBfI2M1YBa6TDGd1m_txTrly3-54M8xf9YRGUWeXujMG8gXcSNoRuYeA/s1600/DSC04708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmUoSR4XXidpLZmQi-o_z7uc73jLRhqP4tph-KNnU0qTxILyEWs3Zb_cF5tNJrULcK3SC80dk8j1Tuhg0Gp80OBfI2M1YBa6TDGd1m_txTrly3-54M8xf9YRGUWeXujMG8gXcSNoRuYeA/s1600/DSC04708.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chaos that is Little India.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After we mowed down the first four stops of the day, our
next destination was a little out of the city, <a href="http://www.visitkualalumpur.com/cmarter.asp?doc=385&node=370" target="_blank">the Batu Caves</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Batu Caves are a series of sacred Hindu
caves and temples and it is in fact one of the largest Hindu shrines in the
world outside of India.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On this day, we
learned that it happened to be one of the busiest days of the year at the
temple and there were thousands of people everywhere who had come to the temples/caves
that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of the men and women had
shaved heads and there were even babies with freshly cropped crew cuts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it was safe to assume that the local
barber wasn't going to be going out of business anytime soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of the people with their shaved heads
were also covered in some weird powder and were walking around barefoot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I wasn't about to take my devotion that
far, I did decide to hike up the nearly 300 stairs to the main cave/temple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen decided it was not for her, so I was
left to explore on my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
reaching the top of what felt like Mount Everest, I was greeted by monkeys and
chickens that were running around and a series of temples in caves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole thing was really quite bizarre if I
say so myself, but hey to each their own!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBQOVOntv8-a28smzoD6rZmFDlzx0K3tTjtQz8z9BZiAOmhU1LiMIVyypDz-Ea45_7Kl6xMLpi-G_t7PXYkQDDp7eWDGGfkCGp5Pt_Uk2LDZqWqXGHdgvsGbH-4quk0XYTgAWKXkZESb5/s1600/DSC04745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBQOVOntv8-a28smzoD6rZmFDlzx0K3tTjtQz8z9BZiAOmhU1LiMIVyypDz-Ea45_7Kl6xMLpi-G_t7PXYkQDDp7eWDGGfkCGp5Pt_Uk2LDZqWqXGHdgvsGbH-4quk0XYTgAWKXkZESb5/s1600/DSC04745.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Batu Caves.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYeJKjnyRScOHpoB4ZHRiVpNChct9E1xEjKaZTk8kujKoXNWvoaTXHMZw5oHcKLrt1HZdiCtcrtZnytGu5I9Cs8PNErQvrFTewZ7DduvekO_EZv_pXxFKowtfVezURdgZCRqyyeSkMu441/s1600/DSC04747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYeJKjnyRScOHpoB4ZHRiVpNChct9E1xEjKaZTk8kujKoXNWvoaTXHMZw5oHcKLrt1HZdiCtcrtZnytGu5I9Cs8PNErQvrFTewZ7DduvekO_EZv_pXxFKowtfVezURdgZCRqyyeSkMu441/s1600/DSC04747.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down from the top of the stairs at the Batu Caves.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdYjV_xU89mu3FD9JqOVMkjOaOawrO_p9w_7z3brlb4k4db58KQbMEwW0MIpV8oT0Jw7Pg5yvtFNRnBA37cYL2vmzt6N4GRoLYxs1usX-5j10vPclz4YzkMREcZ8g63cO7rdfKf0aRwvv/s1600/DSC04748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdYjV_xU89mu3FD9JqOVMkjOaOawrO_p9w_7z3brlb4k4db58KQbMEwW0MIpV8oT0Jw7Pg5yvtFNRnBA37cYL2vmzt6N4GRoLYxs1usX-5j10vPclz4YzkMREcZ8g63cO7rdfKf0aRwvv/s1600/DSC04748.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That is a shit load of stairs.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Bah4eHcKfhH2noVEYtskO7C8C3hU09VGdk8Rb5F6kLp3yDZz3ImmaAOKarhxAmbOH-xyub1gWKjMVEYRfqJvhoaavj90steHwpX4oRqrYhGdg_zhdBYm3nc8FlamEyv80g9fi-mhq0bG/s1600/DSC04761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Bah4eHcKfhH2noVEYtskO7C8C3hU09VGdk8Rb5F6kLp3yDZz3ImmaAOKarhxAmbOH-xyub1gWKjMVEYRfqJvhoaavj90steHwpX4oRqrYhGdg_zhdBYm3nc8FlamEyv80g9fi-mhq0bG/s1600/DSC04761.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet hairdo man.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thankfully the walk down the steps was a little easier than
going up, and after rounding up my fresh-legged girlfriend we were back on the
tour bus and headed to our last two stops of the day: <a href="http://www.visitkualalumpur.com/cmarter.asp?doc=417&node=496" target="_blank">Independence Square</a> and
some street with old-style Malaysian architecture that Colleen and I could give
two-shits about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One bonus of the tour
was that I was able to sleep (much to the amazement of Colleen) on the rides
between various stops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It sure helped to
keep me feeling fresh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All-in-all
though, I must say it was a great value tour and a good way to spend a day in
KL if you are ever in the neighborhood.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmGBw_p3qLOAXfeIuzk8X3by5q0HAOpNd_IMeuBm2qMbvSYL2Yxs3jtKNjItnecOMV5DgEo7043gQChGqEe_G91ErMwrHrIZph1mJTWcbfsOeZvIT_PId3nLnixb6Xk3VSz5GRiMnVi_r/s1600/DSC04781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmGBw_p3qLOAXfeIuzk8X3by5q0HAOpNd_IMeuBm2qMbvSYL2Yxs3jtKNjItnecOMV5DgEo7043gQChGqEe_G91ErMwrHrIZph1mJTWcbfsOeZvIT_PId3nLnixb6Xk3VSz5GRiMnVi_r/s1600/DSC04781.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Independence Square. Will Smith is nowhere to be seen.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back at our hotel we decided to steer clear of the mall for
dinner that night, as the service issues were borderline unbearable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We opted instead to eat at a bar across the
street from our hotel .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">One thing I must warn people of: drinking is
generally not a cheap hobby in Malaysia.</i> I found it amusing that on the way
in the gentleman asked me if I was Muslim and refused to show us the alcoholic
drink menu until I verified (by honor system of course) that I was in fact a
non-Muslim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must say, working security
at a nightclub in Kuala Lumpur has got to be one of the toughest gigs around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keeping track of all your patrons religious
beliefs has got to be mind-boggling!</span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-73754370493452148982014-04-09T23:41:00.000-04:002014-04-09T23:41:26.346-04:00Day 83- Nothing Excites Me More Than A Visit To A Telecommunications Tour. Well, With The Exception Of Bruce Willis Movies.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqD1FjuU5v6GsKEXmGc2vY5jSHbpH_0TD-bJR_TO26n_cODh0q6-3QC49_5rKcmIYoClkNnJKMoT_VE-yAUSoo1bT3a8BhTtnQIbSuUwWT8P2zUEqem_El7aobGl2JaAgPuV-AMTCnWcS/s1600/DSC04624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqD1FjuU5v6GsKEXmGc2vY5jSHbpH_0TD-bJR_TO26n_cODh0q6-3QC49_5rKcmIYoClkNnJKMoT_VE-yAUSoo1bT3a8BhTtnQIbSuUwWT8P2zUEqem_El7aobGl2JaAgPuV-AMTCnWcS/s1600/DSC04624.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are SOOOO bringing some of these broads back to the hotel room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
N<span style="font-family: Calibri;">ever being ones to break form when it comes to eating,
Colleen and I hit up the ever-exotic <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.papajohns.com.my/" target="_blank">Papa John's Pizza</a></i> at the local shopping mall for breakfast/lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following up on the dreadful service from the
previous night, I didn't think it would be possible to receive worse service in
a restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boy was I wrong!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took them over twenty minutes to bring us
two cans of Coke from around the corner...and that was with us asking multiple
times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have seen a lot of people who
don't give a shit in the workplace, but the service staff in Kuala Lumpur was
unlike anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naturally they also
tacked on the mandatory 10% service charge, just to add insult to injury.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDfgSpYtz_dJproGD-bPTPQxbeBYEugUFvm6Lkg_Gza58AbJ6TXTp1go5b5XcRgfgQdn50jJ3A9cVOzylFvReLt-4AbMgUWnl3Y-XzDOqTycmThaCoHypenRslPmrLkaMo2G5Tk_vEoGl/s1600/DSC04647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDfgSpYtz_dJproGD-bPTPQxbeBYEugUFvm6Lkg_Gza58AbJ6TXTp1go5b5XcRgfgQdn50jJ3A9cVOzylFvReLt-4AbMgUWnl3Y-XzDOqTycmThaCoHypenRslPmrLkaMo2G5Tk_vEoGl/s1600/DSC04647.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monorail!!!!!!!!!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With that debacle behind us, we decided we needed to get out
of the mall and see what the city had to offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We headed over to the monorail (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhpO_WcR_jE#aid=P-849wE6tls" target="_blank">you have to sing the word "monorail" a la The Simpsons when saying it</a>) and booted over to KL Tower, which is one of <a href="http://top5ofanything.com/index.php?h=f36836dc" target="_blank">the five tallest telecommunications towers in the world</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I can now say I have been to three out of
the top five tallest telecommunications towers in the world (CN Tower in
Toronto and the Oriental Pearl Tower in Shanghai being the other two).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, it basically makes me a legend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>While we were there we did the usual
tourist duties consisting of taking an elevator to the top, taking some goofy
pictures and admiring the skyline of the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I must say, I was quite ignorant to Malaysia and Kuala Lumpur before we
arrived and it was fascinating to see the construction going on
everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a crane building
some type of condo or office building on seemingly every block and there were
luxury cars and stores abound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It really
is a city with its sights set on the future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNHGMyUFnd8LEwrDFZ4WR8w1X4iABTZnLw-nPbxRFgLFXuhK4ioSSahObVva7h7Fx8FsIdw2LOJgBgsTJTWOfq6AlxVY4gS7BUEUBsbyNPCFfN0034OT3u46bebJeC3EehxdxaSQRenqxO/s1600/DSC04633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNHGMyUFnd8LEwrDFZ4WR8w1X4iABTZnLw-nPbxRFgLFXuhK4ioSSahObVva7h7Fx8FsIdw2LOJgBgsTJTWOfq6AlxVY4gS7BUEUBsbyNPCFfN0034OT3u46bebJeC3EehxdxaSQRenqxO/s1600/DSC04633.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen on tiny people watch.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea1m_b-7Sus6WksEDBgvKqd5ZNt4raDyCXoduXTV6KtKCpIpgeHxV6HbOGEOghbN-hYpS0etmyG2i5DRpjepS0Txlms4cqKyHDWTJa5BSWAOrVWxFdbcbcjMIEoENmM24xGT7UbZHCBZF/s1600/DSC04639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea1m_b-7Sus6WksEDBgvKqd5ZNt4raDyCXoduXTV6KtKCpIpgeHxV6HbOGEOghbN-hYpS0etmyG2i5DRpjepS0Txlms4cqKyHDWTJa5BSWAOrVWxFdbcbcjMIEoENmM24xGT7UbZHCBZF/s1600/DSC04639.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tourists!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ-njVGP3Jr7ZYgnhjtq1ir8Eq7onVLuv4r7ZwoukDCmKMUwLzmyPz6Yl-wpP6a-ojk0nEnGk9b9o-mGArFpX3DWK1MavMFft8JT5oliqVWTyKT0AtCFXUsWS1o26MKuDIXWkxJiiMrP_/s1600/DSC04645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ-njVGP3Jr7ZYgnhjtq1ir8Eq7onVLuv4r7ZwoukDCmKMUwLzmyPz6Yl-wpP6a-ojk0nEnGk9b9o-mGArFpX3DWK1MavMFft8JT5oliqVWTyKT0AtCFXUsWS1o26MKuDIXWkxJiiMrP_/s1600/DSC04645.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KL Tower. It will never be as cool as the CN Tower.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that we had done the requisite "tallest
tower/building in town" visit, we were free to do as we pleased.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen decided that she needed to get her
archery fix, so we trekked back to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Berjaya
Times Square</i> and before we knew it we were firing arrows directly into the dead
centre of the targets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by that I of
course mean into the netting behind and away from the targets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My girlfriend also deemed this to be her new
addiction, along with scuba diving and I am still trying to figure out if these
are cheaper dependencies than shopping and unnecessary baking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before
this trip I hadn't fired a bow and arrow in probably twenty years and now here
I was for the second time in a month testing out my archery skills.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRm9Vat2vlw_qyYr8ecdId0sLDHOy1oWJtmKtaDUjNE7kLxQlWy_EdS43Y0qdTEXOXG9fPHdr9KjGCyjvZqit8s3tis2BApOf_O_9-H3_Ar802vEpaY5Paoi2wkjaJn11kdJwomKiKUdgf/s1600/DSC04660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRm9Vat2vlw_qyYr8ecdId0sLDHOy1oWJtmKtaDUjNE7kLxQlWy_EdS43Y0qdTEXOXG9fPHdr9KjGCyjvZqit8s3tis2BApOf_O_9-H3_Ar802vEpaY5Paoi2wkjaJn11kdJwomKiKUdgf/s1600/DSC04660.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is a suspiciously low number of arrows piercing the actual targets.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After archery our plan was to hit up the amusement park, but
we quickly nixed this idea when the smoothies we consumed weren't sitting too
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took this as our cue to head
back to the hotel and relax instead of riding roller coasters with a bunch of
ten year olds and barfing all over them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Being the restless fart that I am, I cannot sit still too long in a
hotel and before I knew it I was on the monorail by myself headed to check out
<a href="http://www.kuala-lumpur.ws/klareas/chinatown.htm" target="_blank">Chinatown</a> while Colleen relaxed in the hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somewhere along the way my non-existent navigation skills let me down
and instead of finding Chinatown I found <a href="http://content.time.com/time/travel/cityguide/article/0,31489,1994946_1994941_1994915,00.html" target="_blank">Little India</a> instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having never been to India, I can't tell you
if this is what India is like, although I imagine it is pretty similar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was chaos everywhere, loud flute-driven
music (we shall assume for snake charming purposes)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>playing from many of the stores and just
wall-to-wall people as far as you could see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was total pandemonium!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY44deCTxe52NQYW5To1C9o1K6gKeK9aRIDFbdcZlcdWPkZ343Nf9dYymWMX5dDpfN8BLiWOwsY9AA-rMAwKdo1a7QOC4Dn6UIj4rQHnZx-GEIZDt5K95kb40D5YYJdY3vpM6QpTEDFBEU/s1600/DSC04684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY44deCTxe52NQYW5To1C9o1K6gKeK9aRIDFbdcZlcdWPkZ343Nf9dYymWMX5dDpfN8BLiWOwsY9AA-rMAwKdo1a7QOC4Dn6UIj4rQHnZx-GEIZDt5K95kb40D5YYJdY3vpM6QpTEDFBEU/s1600/DSC04684.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uh oh....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWskvF2IGc9XFJJtgZOODGv_MT1bSzFlaxuJyyz9XDr_kniD_guxzLPlEU4Kz2JvyNGko47bopeZHpIXzSYsW43L8HF6Q-0U9kbR13RK7_U9en-wQi3BBXWKYXHnR_gPJ0u9mkOm37HH13/s1600/DSC04685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWskvF2IGc9XFJJtgZOODGv_MT1bSzFlaxuJyyz9XDr_kniD_guxzLPlEU4Kz2JvyNGko47bopeZHpIXzSYsW43L8HF6Q-0U9kbR13RK7_U9en-wQi3BBXWKYXHnR_gPJ0u9mkOm37HH13/s1600/DSC04685.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thankfully I am allowed to enjoy the sweet sweet nectar.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I made it out of Kuala Lumpur's re-creation of Delhi intact,
but I never did find Chinatown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead,
I went back to the hotel and found Colleen waiting for me to take her out for a
romantic dinner; to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Wendy's</i>
naturally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We washed down our greasy
burgers with a couple of games of bowling where I had to remind Colleen that
men are just inherently better at sports than women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's just a fact ladies.</span></div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixrDR6BhyYTsao9XlalQcpf0YL41HcrIpPjP6QtyCRZdkmEoiB3AfJg5RBRCoHGOXJvzjT0iXo4bUWtZUucPwKHXcQQBxRK802ms3aaBiNEEKysaMelLxYhtvvG_4cA-Bc13grOjdtWd7h/s1600/DSC04680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixrDR6BhyYTsao9XlalQcpf0YL41HcrIpPjP6QtyCRZdkmEoiB3AfJg5RBRCoHGOXJvzjT0iXo4bUWtZUucPwKHXcQQBxRK802ms3aaBiNEEKysaMelLxYhtvvG_4cA-Bc13grOjdtWd7h/s1600/DSC04680.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best part of bowling is always the shoes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPp2BWGf3UBov3jMwgXG06RYQy_Peg9q33NCPDLo_CMw0Jy9eJc50MESorOfFAi0DDrskTPNstd5TBrC5XbqQIZOll8_Sp39djUQWm-rFLtJgZTJs_DokINRU3Yv5oXe7SLvsa_1LE6Vrq/s1600/DSC04681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPp2BWGf3UBov3jMwgXG06RYQy_Peg9q33NCPDLo_CMw0Jy9eJc50MESorOfFAi0DDrskTPNstd5TBrC5XbqQIZOll8_Sp39djUQWm-rFLtJgZTJs_DokINRU3Yv5oXe7SLvsa_1LE6Vrq/s1600/DSC04681.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Better watch out Kingpin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To wrap up our night we went to see the cinematic
masterpiece known as, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1606378/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank">"A Good Day To Die Hard"</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not yet out in North America, which
was kind of odd as most movies tend to come out in the US before they reach our
fine friends in Asia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One unique thing
about going to the movies in Malaysia was the excessive subtitling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The movie was shown in English with both
Malay and Chinese subtitles underneath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It became even more distracting when a character in the movie was
speaking Russian and they then added English subtitles into the mix.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, at some points there were three
different languages of subtitles on the screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Also, many swear words were censored out in the movie and if there were
any sex scenes those were most definitely edited out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm hoping there weren't any though, cause
nobody needs to see Bruce Willis scoring some tail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not surprisingly, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Censorship_in_Malaysia" target="_blank">Malaysia has some of the strictest censorship laws in the world</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In conclusion, DON'T SEE THIS MOVIE.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>UNLESS YOU WANT TO LAUGH A LOT, THEN YES WASTE A COUPLE HOURS OF YOUR
LIFE AND WATCH IT.</span></div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwdOkjHhuObaTheYXJqxXHOPNEjR4OQQIi5UqEFxfg6TM0q7cILiA9X_ekFv8O84eSRbsdHIDd3wpBb4Fn7t-TIODr9d6RYFwgTTSrhzjWDYMqvOgOyN94Fzj-eBHM-ahY8J7qnKc-VNC/s1600/DSC04666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwdOkjHhuObaTheYXJqxXHOPNEjR4OQQIi5UqEFxfg6TM0q7cILiA9X_ekFv8O84eSRbsdHIDd3wpBb4Fn7t-TIODr9d6RYFwgTTSrhzjWDYMqvOgOyN94Fzj-eBHM-ahY8J7qnKc-VNC/s1600/DSC04666.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Chinese New Year!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-70740546248777931012014-04-07T21:26:00.000-04:002014-04-07T21:26:39.576-04:00Day 82- Welcome To Malaysia. Where Most People Are In Fact Not Malaysian At All And More People Speak English Than In Most Canadian Cities.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Faster than we could say "Singaporean-Malaysian
Cruise" our two night cruise was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We awoke bright and early at 6:30am and headed down to the main dining
room for our last all-inclusive meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
keeping with the theme of the cruise, the wait staff managed to get our order
wrong and the food also happened to be rather crappy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it was safe to say that we wouldn't
be sailing with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Royal Caribbean</i>
anytime soon again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Making our way off
the ship we had to scan our "cruise identity" cards so that they
could keep track of everyone leaving and to make sure everyone's accounts were
up to snuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Colleen went to exit,
the card machine started beeping rather excessively and everyone was staring at
the two of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was in turn followed
by her being whisked away by a handful of employees who told her that her
account had not been paid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turned out
that Visa had decided to put a hold on her credit card, which in turn caused
her to become the centre of attention for everyone within gawking distance of
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully after a quick phone call
we got everything sorted out and the crew released Colleen with her sparkling
clean criminal record sheet still intact. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKumSHL9pr4-nFm-nQjrv2OdgyFoXaMpYi57asbozMLmktzZuEHsYLMEKUXXTJNXO1nN9giGqPKxm47MgUOJB9SCUMxcI0nOKRpo_tQpvg2qiVJAydkr218UvgX1Em66jMTzjecC3ktTZU/s1600/DSC04618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKumSHL9pr4-nFm-nQjrv2OdgyFoXaMpYi57asbozMLmktzZuEHsYLMEKUXXTJNXO1nN9giGqPKxm47MgUOJB9SCUMxcI0nOKRpo_tQpvg2qiVJAydkr218UvgX1Em66jMTzjecC3ktTZU/s1600/DSC04618.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If that doesn't look disgusting, I don't know what does.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that the cruise was in the past, it was time for us to
lug our backpacks across the city to the bus stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily we had a few hours to kill before our
bus ride to <a href="http://wikitravel.org/en/Kuala_Lumpur" target="_blank">Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia,</a> which was a good thing as the two of us
weren't moving too quickly with our 35-pound backpacks in temperatures that
were approaching 40 degrees Celsius.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
much pissing and moaning (mostly from Colleen I might add!), we made it to the
bus terminal where Colleen immediately sent me on a mission to find a magnet
and post card to commemorate our visit to Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured this would be easy given the fact
that we were near a major transportation hub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was severely wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I marched
around for over an hour trying to find her these God-forsaken mementos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me just say she better not ever lose that
magnet, cause I lost a lot of bodily fluids to track that fuckin' thing down!</span></div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNZuEXrKZgCYbDQrtsDOpCksvWpPd-Nzj9jr_r53EIeStxhMktdOFAFlLnDiaczXjeOGiLi_kFULB-KJvSzFraMfQHloEIg5pDO6th0B0a6HR_0faXwda4XpVpMZ0tCS3ypwGxpYUN7wj/s1600/DSC04672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNZuEXrKZgCYbDQrtsDOpCksvWpPd-Nzj9jr_r53EIeStxhMktdOFAFlLnDiaczXjeOGiLi_kFULB-KJvSzFraMfQHloEIg5pDO6th0B0a6HR_0faXwda4XpVpMZ0tCS3ypwGxpYUN7wj/s1600/DSC04672.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Street feline trying to kill me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the time our bus arrived and started to load up a little
after noon, I was looking forward to the air conditioning more than
anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bus had some of the most
spacious accommodations<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have ever seen
for this mode of transport and the seats even had some massage mechanism built
into them (I couldn't figure out this technology).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bus ride itself was pretty uneventful,
minus the fact that we had to get out with all of our luggage at the
Singapore-Malaysia border to clear customs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was definitely a <s>hassle</s> bitch, but on the positive side
Colleen added a couple of stamps to her passport which excites her almost as
much as <a href="http://cdn.tv3.co.nz/tv/Content/Shows/SonsofAnarchy/charlie-hunnam-fifty-shades.jpg" target="_blank">topless pictures of Charlie Hunnam</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The bus ride ended up taking a couple of extra hours as the traffic was
quite heavy due to the Chinese New Year holiday and the fact that we had our
daily dose of torrential rainfall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfEORXwg5FMtMz31xWLNYirSRfg-c0wR5Bvd-6_THMeGFmQ4VP6Kys5CQf3wwmuZtn_esl9AWpj1SzN7MYZVjW2_uHdfW6OAUyzW_3tu1NzbR7UL85ZVO1DYeCkguzdzZIBTgeXAu9ijm/s1600/DSC04646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfEORXwg5FMtMz31xWLNYirSRfg-c0wR5Bvd-6_THMeGFmQ4VP6Kys5CQf3wwmuZtn_esl9AWpj1SzN7MYZVjW2_uHdfW6OAUyzW_3tu1NzbR7UL85ZVO1DYeCkguzdzZIBTgeXAu9ijm/s1600/DSC04646.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not making any promises.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoE38Ti3tSVIMCa_xiTnkQvA5pcL9mGmaH1FoyslO1x1bI9nn6PjAT5u8bBM66Pws1GO_PMqZXtfbozrB2jg1EsHn_4upIoPgrmoSGDdr-u-73Qz6oyReRub-_U_XX1YakPZ2CqcHjyhXc/s1600/DSC04623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoE38Ti3tSVIMCa_xiTnkQvA5pcL9mGmaH1FoyslO1x1bI9nn6PjAT5u8bBM66Pws1GO_PMqZXtfbozrB2jg1EsHn_4upIoPgrmoSGDdr-u-73Qz6oyReRub-_U_XX1YakPZ2CqcHjyhXc/s1600/DSC04623.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made it to Malaysia!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Arriving in KL (Kuala Lumpur) a little later than we had
anticipated, the bus dropped us outside of <a href="http://www.berjayatimessquarekl.com/" target="_blank">Berjaya Times Square</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Berjaya happens to be one of the twenty
largest shopping malls in the world and its vast amenities include over one
thousand stores, a multi-level movie theatre, a bowling alley, an amusement
park, an archery range, and a ton of other stuff that I can't be bothered trying
to recollect at this exact moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://www.furama.com/bukitbintang/" target="_blank">Our hotel (Furama Bukit Bintang)</a> was supposedly located only a couple of minutes
away, although it probably took us closer to half an hour to find as we were
extremely disoriented and overwhelmed by our new surroundings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvnBsr4-Vb4OzrkKSelwqSFr3Bj7RnuivLwlb9A559S9seE0l5CRCXigHfRRpIRRKBlicW1fuy0IZVx7FkAf76XR4UIphrO5-iKs0e40-dmlKDl55Zgctv674IOdYpUjmjFb-qKzD82dR/s1600/DSC04648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvnBsr4-Vb4OzrkKSelwqSFr3Bj7RnuivLwlb9A559S9seE0l5CRCXigHfRRpIRRKBlicW1fuy0IZVx7FkAf76XR4UIphrO5-iKs0e40-dmlKDl55Zgctv674IOdYpUjmjFb-qKzD82dR/s1600/DSC04648.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen seems unimpressed with one of the largest shopping malls in the world.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2mABYzt0NVfeORquwC_92NwwsmM6GcjECG-mM8kbPqWLfoA8HLFc-Wow76Ge0c31QHG_sh5X-ZwJdzuGV7jV12FJdhZZ0ZECMyiDE1dtLtPh_jzVxHH_yaGgR_jnX0id4dWnpZ7q_jbA/s1600/DSC04665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2mABYzt0NVfeORquwC_92NwwsmM6GcjECG-mM8kbPqWLfoA8HLFc-Wow76Ge0c31QHG_sh5X-ZwJdzuGV7jV12FJdhZZ0ZECMyiDE1dtLtPh_jzVxHH_yaGgR_jnX0id4dWnpZ7q_jbA/s1600/DSC04665.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...But Colleen they have a roller coaster.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwYcCL9c6YC8WT6q8xZu6uoc_ojgtZ1HQCOGmDN2mn3F6RhiTSAG8SC6zQlEtdjHmSAMnbyNpWt_u2xA_norzHuHwsGfitKaW4P7RFwy1JSN06ul2gQwTjF-iFrVdvA9jei9X2_EH-3Ql/s1600/DSC04667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwYcCL9c6YC8WT6q8xZu6uoc_ojgtZ1HQCOGmDN2mn3F6RhiTSAG8SC6zQlEtdjHmSAMnbyNpWt_u2xA_norzHuHwsGfitKaW4P7RFwy1JSN06ul2gQwTjF-iFrVdvA9jei9X2_EH-3Ql/s1600/DSC04667.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting in the spirit for the Chinese New Year.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some interesting things I
observed in my first couple of hours in Malaysia:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1) Since it is a Muslim country
many of the women wear head gear.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2) The actual percentage of
"Malay" people is quite low.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact Chinese immigrants make-up 30% of the population, while Indian
immigrants make-up a further 15%.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3) I was ignorant to how widely
spoken English was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just about everyone
spoke English and the signs for all the stores (at least in Kuala Lumpur) were
in English.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4) Our hotel room had an arrow on
the ceiling pointing towards Mecca.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
know, just in case I need to make a pilgrimage.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5) It is not the easiest country
to find a beer in! Because of the fact that it is a Muslim country (albeit a
liberal one), all of the convenience stores that did sell beer would have signs
on the refrigerator doors stating that Muslims were not allowed to purchase
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what if the Muslim wears a
disguise?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once we got settled in to our room, we headed over to the
mall for some good old fashioned Western food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unfortunately for us we decided to eat at <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.nandos.com.my/nandos_my/" target="_blank">Nando's</a></i>, where we received some of the worst service I have ever
seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had read that most restaurants
in Malaysia tack on a 10% service charge to your bill, so none of the staff
seemed to give a fuck if you actually got served or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, like 10-15 minutes to grab me a Diet
Coke that was ten feet away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it's
not like they were busy, they just truly did not give a fuck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would discover in the coming days that
this was par for the course in just about every restaurant<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>around and my patience (or lack thereof) was
being </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">thoroughly tried.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOD5QLVZwMNxciA_El2afOjCVvxg2AXR9bAowkASlriBj-N8cTO5cLhetJkm3zIoGSEEQHclGFBDIYU6BOSnidqS9afSH5hruuSWE0lshrqJBXf3TzUBY9Hkm-XSKv0k4QpF-URcXISEO/s1600/DSC04620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOD5QLVZwMNxciA_El2afOjCVvxg2AXR9bAowkASlriBj-N8cTO5cLhetJkm3zIoGSEEQHclGFBDIYU6BOSnidqS9afSH5hruuSWE0lshrqJBXf3TzUBY9Hkm-XSKv0k4QpF-URcXISEO/s1600/DSC04620.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All those people and their damn "Paking".</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-67025440470299062592014-04-07T14:13:00.001-04:002014-04-07T14:13:36.974-04:00Day 81- So You're Saying That Wearing My Man Thong And Nipple Piercings To The Shopping Mall In A Muslim Country Is Frowned Upon? Bummer.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkin4RtXWFhVBkzpze8EmddgwY0N7tHamt6HJEyC2ctOjClFhKws5F7l0FRyQQwOtrvk6Ta4VIFtKVebxld7BePzpW_HyYdOuizONmv-DxMoGYTqlFQIXV9lP2tmmnNZCFPcP6AUJTLPx/s1600/DSC04603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkin4RtXWFhVBkzpze8EmddgwY0N7tHamt6HJEyC2ctOjClFhKws5F7l0FRyQQwOtrvk6Ta4VIFtKVebxld7BePzpW_HyYdOuizONmv-DxMoGYTqlFQIXV9lP2tmmnNZCFPcP6AUJTLPx/s1600/DSC04603.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She loves the towel animal more than me!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In keeping with the theme of shitty food, our room service
breakfast arrived at 9am and we decided to make the most of our free balcony
upgrade and enjoy our breakfast out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thankfully, eating your food overlooking the ocean on a lovely day can
make bland, tasteless food seem not as bad as it really is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That morning we had pulled into port at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.ca/Tourism-g306997-Melaka_Central_Melaka_District_Melaka_State-Vacations.html" target="_blank">Melaka, Malaysia,</a>
our sole port of call on the two-night cruise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was nowhere for the cruise ships to dock so the ship just anchored
a few hundred meters off shore and they boated us in on smaller vessels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Immediately upon disembarking the boat,
Colleen and I realized that we had not taken into account the fact that we were
in a Muslim country (this was a first for both of us, so it was an excusable
offence in our minds).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Colleen was
wearing short shorts and a shirt with no sleeves, both of which are frowned
upon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She did get a few stares here and
there, although we did see other women who were dressed more
"inappropriately" and the fact that Melaka is heavily touristed meant
that she would probably not be stoned to death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Well at least not today.</i> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWA2wafZ5VctYNI5UqLsLqT1G6NeyXn6IwwA8bRxVnpJOgMjSW4oLGrjNGzo1kWENFvLe47aItSpHglvi1tGNNFl3uC4035uLGU0ap7JgguSIg1himzUk192dWwLEBfnbm29DHR38WDq0s/s1600/DSC04492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWA2wafZ5VctYNI5UqLsLqT1G6NeyXn6IwwA8bRxVnpJOgMjSW4oLGrjNGzo1kWENFvLe47aItSpHglvi1tGNNFl3uC4035uLGU0ap7JgguSIg1himzUk192dWwLEBfnbm29DHR38WDq0s/s1600/DSC04492.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen in her "slutty" Malaysian attire.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ_2NGML8HjM8qvtUrQz1QYNkLg6bX2bSCrk6sgN66PRI8lEuS9V3joXNWb5qckHWrvbXdjc_YUP0u03rczUMZVRjaw-il8qsHoOhe7iq0OLwi0BO9WysSTRXc_vptR1JzFdETKXJEAeg/s1600/DSC04519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ_2NGML8HjM8qvtUrQz1QYNkLg6bX2bSCrk6sgN66PRI8lEuS9V3joXNWb5qckHWrvbXdjc_YUP0u03rczUMZVRjaw-il8qsHoOhe7iq0OLwi0BO9WysSTRXc_vptR1JzFdETKXJEAeg/s1600/DSC04519.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy apparently went to the "Brent Moreau School Of Working".</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With my "slutty-by-Malaysian standards" girlfriend
in tow, we headed to the local shopping mall to try and grab some local
currency from one of the bank machines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We tried at least six different machines, but alas our Canadian debit
and credit cards were apparently not welcome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They must have been warned that Colleen was coming!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully we had a bit of American cash on
us that we were able to trade in for some<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/5/5c/New_Malaysian_Currency_Design.jpg" target="_blank">Malay ringgit (what they call their funny money).</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that we had our pockets lined, I did what
I always do: force Colleen to hit the tourist trail with me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hit up some <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.ca/Attraction_Review-g306997-d1539344-Reviews-Menara_Taming_Sari-Melaka_Central_Melaka_District_Melaka_State.html" target="_blank">big spinning wheel thing</a> that
takes you a few stories up for views of the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Supremely underwhelming if I say so
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next I dragged Colleen to the
<a href="http://www.tripadvisor.ca/Attraction_Review-g306997-d455062-Reviews-Flora_de_la_Mar_Maritime_Museum-Melaka_Central_Melaka_District_Melaka_State.html" target="_blank">Maritime Museum</a> where <s>we</s> I got educated on the history of Europeans in
the area and naturally the forced enslavement of the local people that
followed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our last couple of stops so
that we could officially say "we saw Melaka" were some church and
fort that had been built on a hill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Typical tourist stuff, and by this point all Colleen cared about was
getting out of the heat and visiting the not-so local A&W for an ice cold
root beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm still not sure what Allah
thinks of A&W.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'll ask him next
time I see him.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCi0XvmbM2XMG13tgMrP2nhiHc9IzwgMNPMaqqFTZgWfKBqWU7ofrgQ5_MrF2-M5WnIOaGNJMpc0scvtL1uWxGOZ4p-UbjAVYsrn4u-B5MQm14oc4V3fau9M0h42fLL4tBatvIP8pwydPi/s1600/DSC04515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCi0XvmbM2XMG13tgMrP2nhiHc9IzwgMNPMaqqFTZgWfKBqWU7ofrgQ5_MrF2-M5WnIOaGNJMpc0scvtL1uWxGOZ4p-UbjAVYsrn4u-B5MQm14oc4V3fau9M0h42fLL4tBatvIP8pwydPi/s1600/DSC04515.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big wheel thingie. We shall just call it that. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhao-Ahb3WqDLdJ6JWP1Gmq5IfJlFsZ4hbpuQ3-vtGQRVEia-diFArYk1kHj7Ayh58vN4Ilp2ReaD4eiU-grsBDs0_1oiOR7f8bnhdZCzRhY_E1KtXmSl7ydzIO6wDjiaW97TlQhVr2aD3D/s1600/DSC04510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhao-Ahb3WqDLdJ6JWP1Gmq5IfJlFsZ4hbpuQ3-vtGQRVEia-diFArYk1kHj7Ayh58vN4Ilp2ReaD4eiU-grsBDs0_1oiOR7f8bnhdZCzRhY_E1KtXmSl7ydzIO6wDjiaW97TlQhVr2aD3D/s1600/DSC04510.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overlooking the city from said wheel.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnLNBmQ7tzBsv68RC1a0oM-f7oDeDvbqIo3b1H2vJa51RdxJBtHUmmDY4RJMBkJUDBN5ECSy2NHCjWQOFtglTJbixN_IGENAFnPG-P-_lDEQ-V_m1CDll0EzZZ_2jqjWH5xagfFK7E4Eg/s1600/DSC04521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnLNBmQ7tzBsv68RC1a0oM-f7oDeDvbqIo3b1H2vJa51RdxJBtHUmmDY4RJMBkJUDBN5ECSy2NHCjWQOFtglTJbixN_IGENAFnPG-P-_lDEQ-V_m1CDll0EzZZ_2jqjWH5xagfFK7E4Eg/s1600/DSC04521.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colleen not so pumped up for the Maritime Museum.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapN29rqL2UfJxcCn-SI0yflaCbyOxQkH7mubWZJthc1RThjlRDWiJgz-_3uELthxQH-hFRt8mIN6zBm33b9rB3kSoMmQXYOanDQsAcjcbu5cYqc8oD1eYdD45F86sYbSsUdBhHMfAI9fF/s1600/DSC04535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapN29rqL2UfJxcCn-SI0yflaCbyOxQkH7mubWZJthc1RThjlRDWiJgz-_3uELthxQH-hFRt8mIN6zBm33b9rB3kSoMmQXYOanDQsAcjcbu5cYqc8oD1eYdD45F86sYbSsUdBhHMfAI9fF/s1600/DSC04535.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Future husband perhaps?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtwEYLvtxxtO-9gbScSLSqIRN2P2fDFjNbqHIqHVVPXJBL3DpD6hyRRiNZv6R6_TUv43FYT4lwaF4LKGF5RG5NPXvUrckLu0mZLGY4RnHQtlY0fHal9PfdkRNI-C26Aolg8U5Hh_Ip9K-/s1600/DSC04545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtwEYLvtxxtO-9gbScSLSqIRN2P2fDFjNbqHIqHVVPXJBL3DpD6hyRRiNZv6R6_TUv43FYT4lwaF4LKGF5RG5NPXvUrckLu0mZLGY4RnHQtlY0fHal9PfdkRNI-C26Aolg8U5Hh_Ip9K-/s1600/DSC04545.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old fort overlooking the city. No doubt used by white people in their enslavement of the locals.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back on the ship, we hit up the lunch buffet before testing
out the mini putt course and rock climbing wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never had either of these on a ship
before, so it was something new and exciting, although I fear that Colleen's
career as a rock climber stopped that afternoon (see: quitter!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because of the previous nights' debacle in
the main dining room, we decided to fork out a few extra bucks and have dinner
in one of the specialty restaurants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
lovely girlfriend treated me for Valentine's Day, which was still a week away,
but hey I wasn't about to complain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
steakhouse was not overly busy, but again there were some issues with the
service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After being seated our server
did not come over for ten minutes (again, the place was near empty).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took them over twenty minutes to bring our
bottle of wine and in fact our appetizers arrived before we got the wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will say though, it wasn't all bad and the
food itself was terrific.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So terrific in
fact that we both felt like Humpty Dumpty afterwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After dinner we took in the nightly
entertainment, which was standard cruise ship far as I can remember!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since it was only a two night cruise we
wanted to go out and experience some of the nightlife, or lack thereof on the
ship, but alas we deemed ourselves immobile and spent the rest of the evening
watching <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerseylicious" target="_blank">"Jerseylicious"</a> on the boob tube.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pathetic, I know.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3X8D9V_bVmw5gdQwtxxHX1tgDujksotdp6VTPCpX7KOtM2XFijts_yxTTzv53lTSxrAkf4v_BCkll36YO971EzUoBt7ji6rt3WqjRMxqSn5XJGKmhbi0Y7DVedIKiE_2JRhmerGe9LLu/s1600/DSC04566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3X8D9V_bVmw5gdQwtxxHX1tgDujksotdp6VTPCpX7KOtM2XFijts_yxTTzv53lTSxrAkf4v_BCkll36YO971EzUoBt7ji6rt3WqjRMxqSn5XJGKmhbi0Y7DVedIKiE_2JRhmerGe9LLu/s1600/DSC04566.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putt putt all-star.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-Q6CCDQ86O_TtuAHHmLhrQt3QX_ZIyAHV_FwByWeySUPMGgOrBTcTusJGaSP8V-OxLuKWbuYl2zBjD2hJmzUNbLnPxOP1AFHNcm-CvHxrkl5-Wulhc3zYGzHmTd0v2Liy2nRlexN64FD/s1600/DSC04573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-Q6CCDQ86O_TtuAHHmLhrQt3QX_ZIyAHV_FwByWeySUPMGgOrBTcTusJGaSP8V-OxLuKWbuYl2zBjD2hJmzUNbLnPxOP1AFHNcm-CvHxrkl5-Wulhc3zYGzHmTd0v2Liy2nRlexN64FD/s1600/DSC04573.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My nuts were not feeling so good at this point.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimakLMOi43BprZv54cUT3yjpeiuqnYIC_8qqB9oOh8FL6vt-mAYpcPHsWvh0fON7nSGgJCsEV5mdXrnAxcMwm-m82YY2NVmmQ7zyWYMhyphenhyphen0fBv6-FR0mjl8N5Pbe5bHe1ABvk9XA9vHB2VL/s1600/DSC04579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimakLMOi43BprZv54cUT3yjpeiuqnYIC_8qqB9oOh8FL6vt-mAYpcPHsWvh0fON7nSGgJCsEV5mdXrnAxcMwm-m82YY2NVmmQ7zyWYMhyphenhyphen0fBv6-FR0mjl8N5Pbe5bHe1ABvk9XA9vHB2VL/s1600/DSC04579.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We'll just say Colleen made it all the way to the top...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdfRNUT5wF8XS2xBrFcKnWk1LNam_hjj-SHIWQhH7svLytx2oY2-WRTMWTPuJ_BNp-Vi8Qteq2ynnlhHtE7EQCL2I4AHAwYxVjoRW8JggTRrg_6pTmBmD-Mq5MRr_fF7ZqIt-sA0ua1Ux/s1600/DSC04591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdfRNUT5wF8XS2xBrFcKnWk1LNam_hjj-SHIWQhH7svLytx2oY2-WRTMWTPuJ_BNp-Vi8Qteq2ynnlhHtE7EQCL2I4AHAwYxVjoRW8JggTRrg_6pTmBmD-Mq5MRr_fF7ZqIt-sA0ua1Ux/s1600/DSC04591.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We opted for the private dinner on the second night of our cruise after the previous night's debacle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZSBxYDMcHRmkDRNrIjgc-p18FdVs9yPsmcRZJzATE-pogUSsm22Me9y5zAnNr5vC7uDyDG54bNZbCqoz74Xz5Y8ZENfqyOsdjwSQnPhSJWvn4TVP0T-_UOsQ-aMr60I9dNFuQfZrAhch/s1600/DSC04581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZSBxYDMcHRmkDRNrIjgc-p18FdVs9yPsmcRZJzATE-pogUSsm22Me9y5zAnNr5vC7uDyDG54bNZbCqoz74Xz5Y8ZENfqyOsdjwSQnPhSJWvn4TVP0T-_UOsQ-aMr60I9dNFuQfZrAhch/s1600/DSC04581.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scoping out the action on the ship.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV2dn6BOQQysQOtrNe0gOKBkiGV2EAqIfC5TKiWZHz2gcrcjMpUXjGS0neKGUkGsqxfd2ADTbPGhUxeqRsqXevUdgccvUWMlxSE8Kx4dAncU9EnmSNCyJx7CZzvrWDyVBxWvKVEzW-PY0J/s1600/DSC04601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV2dn6BOQQysQOtrNe0gOKBkiGV2EAqIfC5TKiWZHz2gcrcjMpUXjGS0neKGUkGsqxfd2ADTbPGhUxeqRsqXevUdgccvUWMlxSE8Kx4dAncU9EnmSNCyJx7CZzvrWDyVBxWvKVEzW-PY0J/s1600/DSC04601.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinese people sure love singing and dancing! </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5042344620564140469.post-92216014185787702962014-04-03T17:01:00.001-04:002014-04-03T17:05:37.645-04:00Day 80- Singaporean Cruises. Where White People Fear To Tread.<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having enjoyed our two-week transatlantic cruise immensely a
couple of months prior, Colleen<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was
super-desperate to go on another cruise while in Southeast Asia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During our hasty research the previous week,
we had found a two-night cruise aboard one of <a href="http://www.royalcaribbean.com/home.do" target="_blank">Royal Caribbean's cruise ships</a>
that departed from Singapore, did a quick day trip to Melaka, Malaysia and then
promptly returned to its beginning port a couple of days later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Chinese New Year was fast approaching
(the biggest holiday of the year in this part of the world) and it was likely
that a lot of local people would be on the cruise as a sort of
"mini-vacation".</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwmBffZ0U6e6Qq-u8WsRifk9okKtm2fQZi-qiWjyxE_m6VTbj5XCHthL5QcDQOvNwRIoIpXqhOPjPm4Mv1ZQvohyphenhyphenAJw3MsjL1XYrXrWlFB82485A7wb-Hnk3h1NMVx4fsIeu5NA1G76bV/s1600/DSC04412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwmBffZ0U6e6Qq-u8WsRifk9okKtm2fQZi-qiWjyxE_m6VTbj5XCHthL5QcDQOvNwRIoIpXqhOPjPm4Mv1ZQvohyphenhyphenAJw3MsjL1XYrXrWlFB82485A7wb-Hnk3h1NMVx4fsIeu5NA1G76bV/s1600/DSC04412.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pulling out of Singapore. About to rain; as usual.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Speaking of<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_New_Year" target="_blank"> the Chinese New Year</a>, let me tell you if you
ever intend to travel in parts of the world with a large Chinese population
during this particular holiday that you should book your travel well in
advance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since Colleen and I had been
flying by the seat-of-our-pants so to speak, we were booking most of our
flights, hotels, etc as we needed them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Originally,
we had planned to fly out of Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We couldn't find a reasonably priced flight so we had decided after our
cruise that we would take a bus from Singapore to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and
then figure out what the hell we were doing from there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such is life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With our newly altered travel plans, the girlfriend and I
headed down to the Singapore Cruise Terminal, with Colleen super stoked about
her second ever cruise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first thing
we noticed was the fact that the cruise passengers were 99.5% Indian and
Chinese.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess this should not have
been surprising, given the fact that these two ethnic groups made up the bulk
of the population in Singapore, but it just seemed odd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually when you think of cruises you think
of old white people and families with fat middle-aged American parents toting
their soon-to-be fat American kids from buffet table to buffet table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once we got the initial culture shock out of
the way, we boarded the 20-year old ship and made our way to our room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were pleasantly surprised to see that we
had been upgraded from an inside room (what we paid for) to a room with a
balcony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the ship was certainly a
couple of rungs down the ladder from <a href="http://www.cruisecritic.com/reviews/review.cfm?ShipID=382" target="_blank">the Celebrity Equinox</a> we had been on
previously, it was still a nice ship that had apparently just been in dry dock
(see: not on the sea) for a month undergoing some renovations and
upgrades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3v3zENsaQU5mZdlAKdj8Z-3RDUOoZHcE3e9wd8netjZewjER5JJgWa_xNuvwe7skz3TCIB6_c4o2Lk594AjneV7hoD4coUgPO531macn7aOfn4XeyWncS6sYtyFuHBpRqA4keK1Gc9RGF/s1600/DSC04418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3v3zENsaQU5mZdlAKdj8Z-3RDUOoZHcE3e9wd8netjZewjER5JJgWa_xNuvwe7skz3TCIB6_c4o2Lk594AjneV7hoD4coUgPO531macn7aOfn4XeyWncS6sYtyFuHBpRqA4keK1Gc9RGF/s1600/DSC04418.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who invited Derek Zoolander on the cruise. Blue Steel!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once we got settled in, Colleen and I did what all good
cruisers do: head straight to the lunch buffet!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We ordered a couple of adult drinks and settled in with our mountains of
food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, they forgot to put the most
important ingredient in Colleen's drink...the alcohol.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had been told that the ship had a ton of
new staff right now, as is usually the case when a ship comes out of dry dock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being the non-confrontational experts that we
are, we were too afraid to go complain, so we just relegated ourselves to the
fact that it was a rookie error and moved on to go watch some Russian
contortionist do things that I still can't figure out if they turn me on or
repulse me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was quickly followed by
a ten minute blackjack session in the casino where I lost $100 and proclaimed my
disgust for all things gambling related (these feelings never last).</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3Ge2-E9BVBmslO-RJnauXdVINZaBwKKKgegMZSgwtYjGVZsOxG0T1hQZ_y1jAm0tfI4aKDZyVRrfMfoZuOTXhzuEGz7Ecapw63-WAJmTrZ8rnemaw-VwHdxfwIOcmNIWd1C-uz6D36FO/s1600/DSC04424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3Ge2-E9BVBmslO-RJnauXdVINZaBwKKKgegMZSgwtYjGVZsOxG0T1hQZ_y1jAm0tfI4aKDZyVRrfMfoZuOTXhzuEGz7Ecapw63-WAJmTrZ8rnemaw-VwHdxfwIOcmNIWd1C-uz6D36FO/s1600/DSC04424.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freak between the sheets, no doubt!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">During the reservation process for our cruise, we had
requested for a table of two at dinner time, so we were a little surprised when
we were seated at a ten-person table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Initially this was ok, as for the first half-hour we were the only
people there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually we were joined
by two other couples and some random guy who was sitting by himself (can't say
I've seen this on a cruise before).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was a super awkward dinner, as one of the other men at our table kept
constantly berating the wait staff and his wife/girlfriend was beyond
embarrassed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shit you not, when I say
he requested three different types of water, two appetizers, and then had to
try three different main courses before he found one that was up to his
ridiculous standards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also felt it
necessary during his Hitleresque dinner to demand the dessert menu while he was
still eating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To say it was an uncomfortable
dinner for all involved would be a major understatement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To make matters worse, the wait staff were
really slow and terrible (we shall assume they were some of the new recruits).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They spilt our bottle of wine on me (no
apology), served us super warm water, never checked<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on us once, and to top it off we had to go
and procure our own bottle of wine that they had stashed away from the table as
they were supposed to pour it for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If you aren't going to pour it, just leave
the damn thing in front of me; it will disappear quick enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guarantee it!</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On top of this the food was super bland and
when we wanted to pay for our wine and leave we couldn't find a staff member
for the life of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By this point we
were so pissed off and wanting to get out of there that we just decided to leave
without paying for our wine and figured we had pulled a fast one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, the inept wait staff still managed to
track down our room number and charge the wine to our accounts, but at the time
it felt like a minor victory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Doing our best to put our dinner experience behind us, we
headed over to check out a Village People review that was actually pretty
entertaining.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cruise director was
dressed up as the construction worker, while another portly (and exceptionally
white) member of the staff was dressed up as the Native American.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His<a href="http://www.ca.skechers.com/" target="_blank"> Sketcher shoes</a> made the whole thing feel
that much more authentic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One thing I
must say about the Chinese tourists is that they sure loved their YMCA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were singing and dancing along as if we
were at a <a href="http://inchcolm.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/Bon-Jovi-Concerts.jpg" target="_blank">Bon Jovi</a> concert for Christ's sake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Once we had our fill of the cheesy shtick, Colleen and I headed up to
the bar/nightclub for a couple of drinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead of a nightclub atmosphere, we were greeted by large packs of men
standing around in groups, not drinking and just looking generally like
perverts on the prowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say
it was a sad state of affairs and after a couple of drinks and Colleen feeling
like she had been eye-fucked enough for one night we made our way back to our
room.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBQnRYkT8D4PxvY_o2uLUVb3HSc2cDG-zx15kDI-mPMap3JiDrXe_R2kpeLB6dXjxkgbFT-GTM115ISU0REacLtikYpcNVxFSB2DoL06P_w2jjN7TxLC1zMWfLJpiEiVnROzrOY8HSedq/s1600/DSC04468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBQnRYkT8D4PxvY_o2uLUVb3HSc2cDG-zx15kDI-mPMap3JiDrXe_R2kpeLB6dXjxkgbFT-GTM115ISU0REacLtikYpcNVxFSB2DoL06P_w2jjN7TxLC1zMWfLJpiEiVnROzrOY8HSedq/s1600/DSC04468.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The shoes just authenticate the performance that much more.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back in our room we searched high and low for our breakfast
card to place on our door for room service the following morning, but I could
not find it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to ask at least four
different people who were all quite rude about the situation if I could
possibly have a new breakfast card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was literally as simple as handing me a piece of paper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of them insisted that it was in my room
on the desk (it wasn't) and basically called me a liar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually, a gentleman brought one to our
room for us, but in keeping with the ridiculously bad service decided not to
knock on our door and just barged right in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What if Colleen and I had been
having a<a href="http://www.sincitystrippers.com/oil-wrestling.htm" target="_blank"> mud wrestling match</a> or had our dominatrix gear setup?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That would have been doubly awkward.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To say I wasn't impressed with Royal
Caribbean so far would be a fair assessment of the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We did our best to drown our sorrows by
ordering three plates of room service, which I quickly devoured before passing
out in a gastro-induced coma.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeHhAp51miY59oKJ0p32MMLGXWzf9VC33uUbLMVkxLC0nZGnv15VvV-1cqdLD36f3v5B6UypVidG-Ftzzvxs0zyBCdEu3Q8wzSuVRLt2evSra2PE1xnoYqRMnuT9Tig7Cw_u1Lin_JkUgw/s1600/DSC04479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeHhAp51miY59oKJ0p32MMLGXWzf9VC33uUbLMVkxLC0nZGnv15VvV-1cqdLD36f3v5B6UypVidG-Ftzzvxs0zyBCdEu3Q8wzSuVRLt2evSra2PE1xnoYqRMnuT9Tig7Cw_u1Lin_JkUgw/s1600/DSC04479.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't judge me.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">~Brentski~</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Note:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realize this posting may make me sound like
some kind of "service snob".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
am actually the furthest thing from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As someone who has worked in the industry for years, I actually despise
said snobs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The service was THAT BAD,
made even worse by the fact that it was on a cruise where service is usually
far superior to that which you receive elsewhere.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
~Brentski~http://www.blogger.com/profile/01842378713871742538noreply@blogger.com0