Korean Christmas

Hello Family, I miss you all the most at Christmas. Here is a little photo show of how I spent mine. We had a really nice meal at a restaurant and then everyone came back to our apartment for a traditional Parnell Christmas Eve sleep-over.


The family sitting down for Christmas dinner.


Rawk around the Christmas hawk.


. . . I'm actually friends with these people.


This is King Santa. Because of this man I got to eat turkey, stuffing and cranberries on Christmas. God bless you.


Was I naughty or nice? I really can't remember.


These aren't the real Santas, these are just his helpers.


This is the Irish version of Santa Claus.


Bryan and Bryant. Two of the greatest minds of our generation.


The tree and the lute!!


It's family tradition to have a mini keg. It's no Molson Canadian, but it will do just fine. Also, check out the manikin in the background. One of the better gifts I received this year!


Babes in their pollution masks.

SNL - A Special Christmas Box

You've probably already seen this shit on your little sister's blog, but it's still funny.

Ghost of Korean Christmas

Well, Merry friggin Christmas everybody! We're all sad over here in Asia. But, some of us are finding small miracles in the darnest places. Here is a Christmas tale writtien by my roommate Collin about being sad, but then getting completely annihalated on Baccardi and learning the true meaning of happiness. Enjoi.


I was a lonely soul…lost…deeply saddened that I was spending my first Christmas somewhere other than the motherland, Canada. To my surprise, and delight I was blessed with a foreigner Christmas party to help lift my spirits. What started as an innocent Christmas gathering turned into a religious awakening. It all began with a festive bottle of Bacardi. One glass turned into two, and two turned into a bottle. Then some wine and a glass or three of eggnog, plus a rousing game of FLIP CUPS, at which I am now internationally known!!!

It could have been the time of season, or the people, or maybe it was just the copious amounts of alcohol consumed, but slowly my spirits were being lifted, and so were my clothes. With every piece of property I was losing, it was like shedding a layer of sadness, and bringing me closer and closer to a Christmas miracle. First it was my jacket…then my scarf, and finally every personal belonging, including my wallet. Finally I was free…and drunk!!!

I could no longer string together a sentence, and had reverted to cave grumbles, but somehow I managed to get home (with the help of a trusty friend who will rename unnamed but be referred to as the ghost of Korean Christmas.) I awoke with a wrenching headache, and a not so good feeling in my stomach. Somehow I was still not in the Christmas spirit. I decided that maybe going for a walk would help.
I stumbled my way to the corner store, and picked up a carton of milk. On my way home I started to feel a slight twinge in my stomach…could it be? Was it time? It was. I hunched over and released all the pains keeping me shackled to this loneliness. Upon completion a miracle sent from God or Canada occurred.

When I lifted my head all I could see was white, finally I was cured, and a single puke tear streamed down my face. Somehow, standing in a dirty alley, with vomit at my feet, and crazed Korean screaming in my ears, all faded far, far away . . . an angel had blessed me, and IT WAS SNOWING!!!!! My journey was complete and I was one with the snow…I can only hope that those tiny white pieces of snow will last for a long time, but if not I can sleep at night knowing they have brought my happiness, if for no more than a single day…

Cheer, Collin


Mr. Hanky, the Christmas milk puke. Hideee Hoooee!

Sk8 Life

The Van City gang has thrown together a drama. "Sk8 Life!" This is an actual movie about making skate videos and making ends meet. It's casted by all real skaters, so you can assume the quality of acting is nothing short of brilliant. But besides the Grammy hype, it's a really fun, good feeling, low-fi movie that makes me want to run out and buy a damn video camera. The plot is the classic "it's the best summer of our lives, but we don't have enough money to pay for our house, so we gotta skate so hard that we save the world . . . " you know the classic drill. And they drink beer and ride minis and pools. Kris Foley plays the father figure to all the little rug-rats, who are totally stoked, except Dustin Montie. Dustin is entering a critical point in his skating abilities where he is considering breaking away from the crew . . . but what about the house Dustin, we gotta save the house!! Will Dustin come through at the end and help out. You gotta go download this ish for free and find out. www.sk8life.com

Banksy in L.A.

“Art show of the year!” my arse. Banksy’s L.A. warehouse show, hosted by every commercial activist in Hollywood, was loved by all . . . except people who like animals. Banksy, the renowned London graffiti, stencil, stuntman continues to fight commercialism with . . . well, total commercialism, and enormous pink elephants. Yes, why did we never think of this before? Brad Pitt, Angela, and their checkbook, were present to witness the profound presence of an elephant painted pink to match a wallpaper pattern backdrop. The message: poverty is like a giant floral elephant. The other message: it’s ok to paint animals and sell them to movie stars.

Animal people were totally pissed at Banksy. And this isn’t the first time. At a show in London, where he had painted sheep and other mammals, a woman locked herself to their pen in protest. Response: the dealer thought the woman made a great addition to the exhibition and left her there. In any case, I believe the paint was nontoxic, and the animals were all cared for properly, but I can’t help but think this painted animal thing is retarded. I would rather see a painted human thing. Paint David Blaine or some-shit. Although Bankster’s L.A. show was a hit for most, his website is littered with hate mail, and people threatening to attack him with tranquillizer guns. And where is Mr. Banks after all this cuffufle – now he’s painting these crappy stencils in the Gaza strip, or some stupid shit like that.

Hobbies

Do you have any hobbies? Ping-Pong, making bird feeders, scrapbooking? Sometimes I like to follow the elderly around. But my hobby doesn't end with the hunt alone. I've developed the passtime. Now I always carry my camera in tow and turn my adventure into a crappy Youtube art film. If you wanta see my latest catch check out the video below and prepare to be inspired by the benevolance of the old.

Inner City Ninja Life

I lived with Owen for a year in Vancouver. He loved ninjas, breakdancing and yoga. Every morning we would have "Power Morning" sessions, which was a healthy breakfast, some yoga, and then a quick break jam in our kitchen. I remember one time he was stretching when the phone rang. He casually got up and answered it. Owen's Boss: "What are you doing, you're 20 minutes late for work!" Owen: "Yeah, well I'm not done stretching, so I'll be a little while still."

At night we would go this place called Ninja Roof. It was a roof over-hang on top of a school that looked out above downtown. We always brought big jars of tea and doobs. And we would rap.
One day Owen came home and told me he just bought a 1979 VW Rabbit that he had ripped the back seat out of and replaced with a bed. He was going to drive from Vancouver to Toronto and then live in the car. He did this. And he lived in the car for over a year. Owen is a rad dude, and also loves fantasy pictures of wolves.
Here is a bit of an article he wrote for a yoga magazine.

Learning to Park
breakdancer/yogi owen robertson transforms his vw rabbit into a hermit’s refuge in the middle of the city
excerpted from the print magazine…
A few years ago, I bought a maroon ’79 Volkswagon Rabbit in Vancouver for $400 with the explicit purpose of driving it to Toronto and living in it. I wasn’t running from the law or hounded by poverty. I made this decision willingly, and look back upon those days with extreme fondness.

I can trace the dream back to high school when I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac. The part where Sal visits Carlo Marx at his hut in the mountains inspired me. The simple elegance of living with essentially only books and rice as one’s possessions appealed to me on many levels, ranging from my spiritual fervor all the way down to my Scots thriftiness, or “cheapness” if you will. Other inspirations were provided by Thoreau’s Walden, as well as all the monks, nuns, wise hermits, since the dawn of time, that secluded themselves for spiritual purposes.

Yoga teaches us to see things in their essence, and a car is really just a hut on wheels. So when I tell people that I lived in a car, and they get all worried about me, what they fail to understand is that I was taking part in an ancient and noble tradition. That being said, I must admit that there was another side to my motivation. I was on a quest for self-healing, and felt that doctors could not help me …

I know Owen would love this video.

Push for the Cure

Four good old Canadian boys have just completed their mission to raise money for women's breast cancer research. They skateboarded from Halifax to Vancouver. That's incredibly far!! Here are some quotes and pictures from the site, please go check it out - this is Canadian history!!

Riders Aaron Jackson (25), Benjamin Jordan (25), Carlos Koppen (26) and Rob Lewis (25) are stressing the importance of safety as they rally riders from all over North America and abroad for their finale event. The past months have had them skating up to 125km per day and they feel well-prepared for the challenges on the road ahead.


Throughout their record breaking event, the generosity from Canadians has been overwhelming and is a great motivation for the team. From hotel rooms to gas and food, individuals, communities and businesses have been incredibly generous.


Their efforts have already raised over $40,000 for the cause and they hope to double that amount in their final week. Rider Rob Lewis emphasizes, “Our goal was to raise at least $1 from each man in Canada as a symbol of their support, respect and gratitude for the women of their lives.


We’re not finished yet – we still need them to show their support for the cause and every dollar counts.” Supporters are welcome to make secure online donations through their website www.pushforthecure.com – the donation link leads to a site established and maintained by the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation.






Push for the Cure will reach its finale on October 9th at Stanley Park in Vancouver. They plan to enter the city following a 3-day skate from Hope with hundreds of fellow riders.


More information about Push for the Cure is available on the web at www.pushforthecure.com. For more information, or to schedule an interview please contact the team at 416-200-7058.

Surfing South Korea

Bali, whatevs. Cally, whatevs. Indo, Ausie, Costa, who cares. The real fifteen-dollar question is, can you surf the Korean peninsula? Answer: kinda.
In the spring of 2006, Me and Rory heard the typhoon reports and decided to search it out. We hopped a train to Busan, planning to trowel North along the coastline amidst steal factories and drying squid. After a brief visit to Russian town, a shake of the head “No, thanks” to the miraculous vixens, we made a lame and lucky maneuver. “Fack-it, lets just get a cab?” "Uhh, anyong haseo, uhh . . joeio surfing, jueseyo, comsahamnida" (Hey, I like surfing, can you bring me surfing, thanks very much.) The cab driver turns in his seat and responds, "Ne," (Yeah, sure I can bring you guys surfing, no problem.)
Thirty-dollar cab ride and he drops us off in front of the line-up. And we’re set. This was the spot for the next six months. What was the surf like? Shallow, steep, fast-breaking and shoulder high. Not ideal, but real.



The next time you're through Korea come on down and catch a wave. You can rent boards, wetsiuts, drink whiskey and get in on a BBQ at the local surf shop. Here's da link kids - www.surfinghaeundae.com

Basquiat

Jean-Michel Basquiat at the Kukje Gallery, Seoul, Republic of South Korea.

Thanks to Tina Kim for dragging a rad exibition of Basquiat works from New York to her mother's Kukje gallery, Oct.12 - Nov 12, 2006.
I dragged out my roommate to witness it, and then made him write a review. Check up on it!

An art review, by Collin Ritch



Hi, my name is Collin. A couple of weeks ago my roommate dragged me to a Basquiat art exhibit. Not being a huge art fan it took a little convincing, but I did agree to go. It was cool, but enough about the art, let’s get to the real reason you all are reading this… Keeping in mind this was my first visit to Seoul I decided to let loose a little, so to speak. My roommate, as well as a few other tag alongs, grabbed a hotel in the foreigner district known as Iteawon. It was a grand night, the music was blaring, the drinks were flowing, the girls were gorgeous, (well at least at this point in the evening I thought so.) At some point I decided it was time to meet some new people so I left my crew. To my surprise, and luck I met the GREATEST character that I have met to date.


His name was Yaser Al Chikh, a Syrian Spare Car Parts and Accessories Exporter-Importer, who later came to be simply known as “Daddy”. “Daddy” took a particular liking to me, whether it was my loveable teddy bear image, or the fact that I was the only white guy willing to talk to him, nobody will ever know. The drinks came hard and fast, and the night quickly got out of hand. “Daddy” had underlings everywhere, and every time I tried to escape his grips an underling would appear and drag me back. I was forced to be the wingman for a Syrian Business dude. I have never seen a bigger look of fear in woman’s eyes than when “Daddy” got them in his sight. It is something that is almost indescribable. Luckily, between shots of whiskey, dancing with girls, and almost passing out, I found a window for escape and took the opportunity, leaving with two business cards, three phone numbers, I fled like a drunken used whore.


By this point it was 3am, and with my friends long gone, I decided it probably was time to head back to the hotel room. The only problem was that I didn’t have a key, and when I arrived at the room, everyone had crashed and was in no shape to answer my many bangs. I did what any self-respecting drunk would do…I found a cozy spot at the end of the hall and set up shop. This lasted only about an hour, until I was reported by another guest, (who I guess heard my banging, and drunken banter.) I was rudely awoken by a Korean bell boy rhyming off something in Korean to the affect of “Get the fuck out of my hall and into your room, or I’ll kick your stupid foreign ass out on the street”. At that point I decided it was finally time to bring this adventure to an end and retire to my spot on the floor of my hotel room. After some work my roommate was kind enough to let me in, and my journey came to an end. I only hope my experience has not soured any of you on the Korean experience, as everyone needs some Syrian spice in their lives.



Cheers,

Collin

South Korean Train

All summer Greg, Rory, Jason, Bryant and I rode this train to Busan to go surfing. We usually had nothing to do but hang out in the dining car, play pictionary: category new age self help novels, or make art film shorts about the passing Korean landscape. Thus was the summer of 2006, . . . alas.

Buck Friggin 65

Buck is so rad he always gives us mortals free shit. Right now on Buck65.com you can download two eps, Dirty Work, a five track folky disc, or, Strong Arm, a mixtape that features Buck rappin over roots, rock, reggea. Check it out, down it, bask in it's friggin glory.