Some interesting banter in the classrooms. Yesterday we were going through a reading passage in one of the classes. It discussed ghosts, so we were having a general chit, when one of the kids asked me what I would do if I saw a ghost. I responded:
“If theres something strange
In your neighbourhood
Who you gonna call?
I was met with blank faces with a slight air of incredulity in the room. Their slight bewilderment at this outburst and my astonishment that anyone could not know the lyrics to Ghostbusters. I mean what kind of sick society does not show the children the Ghostbuster movies. Inhuman.

In another class, we were discussing a guy called Terry Fox who was a Canadian who lost a leg to cancer, but reacted by trying to run across Canada to raise money for research. One of my students seemed very confused by this: “How could a fox run across America?” No, no he was a man I said. “No, but he is Terry the Fox.” No I replied Fox is just his name. She obviously imagined this three legged fox running across Canada, attacking chicken coops and drinking maple syrup along the way. I tell you it is not easy trying to produce talented debaters from kids who imagine charity running super foxes.

Finally, I have been looking at some bebo and facebook pictures of everyone out and about in the warmer climate. I would like to remind the girls that just because it is summer, fake tan does not become invisible. Some fine ladies look like they have been tanning up, by walking through a car wash filled with St Tropez. I don't know if they look exotic or radioactive. Being so smothered that you resemble Tony Hart's friend morph is not a sexy look. Remember that you are Scottish. Looking pale and sickly is your birthright, embrace it.

Well I had a meeting today with the 'Planning Manager', the sort of big boss character at New Study. To cut a long story short, I am not leaving, I am not going to work at another place, instead things will remain as they are. I will stay at the place I am working doing the same stuff I am doing right now.
Essentially, my first option would have been to get paid off and go home. An extra months pay, would have set me up with a tidy sum for a summer in Glasgow. It would have also meant doing a masters next year would be a serious possibility. Instead, I feel like the guys from Prison Break after an escape plan was foiled. However, for the first time I have not been railroaded, I have basically called the shots and if not achieved the best case scenario, I have not allowed myself to be put in a position I do not want to be. After the latest shenanigans, I cannot help but think that I have moved up just a little in the food chain. So I will keep as ever, playing it by year. Whatever else, life here is never boring for long.

Things are a bit up in the air again at work. They are wanting me to go and do some of my hours at another academy. The problem is this place is run by my mental old boss, who I have absolutely no interest in working for. In fact I certainly will not agree to it. I am not entirely sure what my stance will result in. Other than that, I feel like I have the chat of an Alec Dyson at the moment, so I will keep things brief.

Gutted for Liverpool. They really did not deserve to lose. Milan never got going and were second to nearly everything all night. I feel genuinely nauseous looking at the gloating mug of Pippo Inzaghi running around like he is a fucking superstar. Tosser. He is an overrated, injury prone, greasy diver who has never learned how to stay onside. Oh and he just threw a hissy fit when asked something by a club official. Put the dummy back in Pippo.

Incidentally, Kaka is wandering around wearing a T-Shirt that says: “I belong to Jesus.” Does this mean AC Milan have entered into a third party ownership agreement with Jesus Christ for Kaka. Milan should watch this as West Ham got into a lot of trouble with the whole Carlos Tevez and Javier Mascherano affair. Be you obscure entrepreneurs, or the messiah, you should not get to own part of a football player, its not on.

Half time in the Champions League and AC Milan took a sickening lead right at the end. Pippo Inzaghi deflected in an Andrea Pirlo free kick. Deflected in off his bloody arm. After such a jammy, if not illegal goal, you would have thought the perpetually offside Pippo might have just shown a bit of humility. But no, the dirty iti started celebrating and gloating like he had just scored an overhead kick from thirty yards. Hopefully Milan will overload with Pasta and Ciabatta during the break and the Reds can come back.

Peoples perspectives on things can change greatly depending on the particular instance. For example, at certain points, I think of Madonna as a brave and independent free thinker, who has been an important female in the world and has creatively reinvented herself. However, most of the time, I actually think of Madonna as a rank midden, who has cheaply exploited her sexuality, surrounded herself with powerful and influential men to aid her career and has manipulatively jumped on every new trend to disguise the fact she has never had an original thought in her life. I point this out, only as a crude illustration of the way peoples opinions and feelings can drastically vary.
Concordantly, my own moods and views, can vary frequently and so you should take any of my posts on this blog and any MSN conversations etc, with a pinch of salt. I have frustrating days certainly, but on the whole I am a happy chappy. I have managed to adopt a mindset where my day to day life is relatively stress free, my work load is to be honest a piece of piss and I am saving some money. When I first got here I was certainly overworked, overwhelmed and bloody miserable generally. I have managed to come to a mental ceasefire with the childhood nuke bomb that is the Korean education system. Certain people still seem to think I am miserable all the time and seem to worry about me. Although the concern is touching, don't fret, I am doing just fine at the minute.
Oh and as I am sure he is reading when he has a chance, hello to another globetrotter in the form of Mr Niall Kennedy. Niall is settling in Caracas as I type and I am sure he will leave his own indelible imprint on the Socialist paradise. Good luck!!

We had a seminar today at work. This was essentially a chance to give a presentation to Korean parents to try and get them to send their kids to the hagwon. We had a show debate, sort of like this, in the first few days that I got here. On that day, the seminar room was almost bursting with parents, eagerly watching the debate in front of them. It is a mark of how things have gone that today, about five or six parents turned up. Not so good. My colleague Phil looking very snazzy in a brand spanking new tailored suit gave a presentation on the program etc. The presentation was strong, our program is decent I think, but there is still one major flaw in the system. We are charging well, well over the odds. This is the legacy of when our program was touted as some sort of miracle product. Very quickly, parents would realise that when the kiddys were not turning into Oscar Wilde within a couple of months, that there may be something up.

While Phil gave the presentation, I just sort of sat on the side like the sprig of parsley on the steak. At point I was introduced as the Scottish debating champion by the Korean boss type who then went on like this: “Kenny is from Scotland. This means he has a very strange accent, however this is good. As students now have to listen to weird accents on foreign language tests, so this is why he is useful.” Glad to be of service, cheers.

Generally, our part of the business continues to do very badly. We are leaking students like Charlie Whelan used to leak negative press about Tony Blair. We are recruiting new students about the pace of the Jade Goody fan club. However, we are one very small part of a very big company, and the upper management levels seem happy enough to keep taking the hits in the hope that somehow things will turn around, and a successful english/debate program will appear. Honestly, I think I have a better chance of winning Mr Universe. I don't actually find any of this dispiriting. On the whole, I am just not that arsed. As mercenary as it is, I am happy to have a light teaching schedule and then taking the money. Anyway, it is a gorgeous day today. I hope the weather is lifting the spirits of my friends wherever they are.

http://tunaflix.com/?page_id=466

The return of the robots in disguise and it looks like lots of fun.

You do not have to be a scumbag to be a trial lawyer, but it seems, that in many instances it helps.

http://www.thelondonpaper.com/cs/Satellite/london/news/article/1157147482540?packedargs=aid%3D1157147482540%26suffix%3DArticleController

Dundee

When I think of Dundee, I think of a pregnant teenage mother wheeling around her seven month old child. A harsh stereotype to be fair, but not without a kernel of truth as Dundee is notorious for the high rates of teenage pregnancy it contains. Indeed, I have a theory about the ridiculously high levels of teenage pregnancy of in Dundee. I think the sperm of the virile Dundonian men, have a quality similar to that of the Aliens blood in the Alien movies. Now that I think of it, if Dundee girls like to go a little porn star, this could explain why they can be so ugly.
Recently Dundee has gained the dubious distinction of being the first SNP held city. Reports that a clone of William Wallace is gathering his forces to march South on York are still unconfirmed. I am not sure if the SNP hold Dundee City Council, however if the councillors are kicking about in school uniforms, then it is likely.

Dundee is also known as the 'City of Discovery.' What a shower of cheeky gets. You can imagine the denizens of Ancient Athens looking down and saying: “Have you seen what they are calling themselves. How on earth do they think they can get away with that? Discovery, discovery? Funnily enough they have never discovered the morning after pill. Ha, ha good one Socrates you big nosed clown you.” No the reason for Dundee's title is that the RSS Discovery was built and is berthed there. RSS Discovery actually went on quite a successful voyage of discoverousity to Antartica, with nobody dying or anything. This is probably why no one has heard of it. In reality, Dundee has also been at the heart of many scientific breakthroughs, and today the city, and the university displays excellence in many scientific fields. Yet with all that scientific knowledge, they still cannot come up with a functional condom.

The city has two good universities, or to put it another way it has the well renowned University of Dundee and Abertay, which is good at making computer games. A generation of greasy and acene ridden teenager salutes you Abertay. Take a look at a rowdy weekend in Dundee and it is not hard to see where the inspiration for Grand Theft Auto came from.

The High School of Dundee, is a private school which produces an extraordinary amount of first rate debaters. In fact I do not believe these are in fact normal children in anyway. I think they are all grown in tanks, in the sort of debating equivalent of a brave new world. “Ah we have put together a new genetic potion to create unbeatable summation speakers. Aha!” Seriously, it is a scary production of line of rhetorical machines and I think Mulder and Scully should investigate pronto.

Now for the nice part. I actually think Dundee is a cracking place. I have had some great nights out there. The people are on the whole a friendly and comedic bunch, and I have lots of friends from the area. In fact I remember one night at Northern Services conference. particularly. I was on the board of management at my students union, and we were a member of a buying consortium called Northern Services. Each year Northern Services would have a big conference, where food and drink wholesalers would woo us with their products and we would make conference like decisions, in a conference like way. Included in all this grown up banter was a free bar however. At said free bar I drank so much Baileys that I was violently sick into a bin. So violently sick that I fell into the bin and could not get out. I managed to escape by tilting the bin into falling over, so I could escape my Baileys vomit rubbish receptacle prison. Yes dignity is my middle name. Generally, I have some very good nights out strolling about the bars in Dundee, and gazing out at the Tay, the Tay, the silvery Tay. So that is Dundee. I am sure the tourist board will want to give me a job soon.

I went back to the gym today and this time I got an actual sort of physical examination thingy. It involved standing on a set of scales, but then I also had to hold these handles while I did it. It then basically analysed me and told me...well what it told me I am not entirely aware. I do this, it turns out I have the same level of body fat as a pork scratching. It told me that I have an 'apple' body shape and this is not right. I suppose I should be a carrot or a stick of celery or some other type of vegetable.

Another rather strange feature of this gym struck me today. There are T-Shirts and Shorts available that the patrons are supposed to wear, with the logo of the gym emblazoned on them. How weird is that? The only place where wearing collective clothing, as worn and other by others, strikes me as acceptable is in a prison. This is acceptable, because well its a prison and bad stuff happens to the people in there. But at the gym...weird.

Anyway, despite the slight Shawshank touches, it is a very good idea that I try and do some exercise. As I currently sport a degree of flexibility that is reminiscent of Ozzy Osbourne.

I joined a gym today. This is a good move, as I have been in a bit of a fatty fatty boom boom trend over the past few weeks. So I went up did filled in the form and everything, and then got shown around the gym etc. As they showed me around the gym, they started to fill out like an exercise plan thing, based on the little weights machine. Everyone seems to have a little plan, in a little folder, in the little filing cabinet they have. Thing is, I don't want an exercise plan. Certainly not one which estimates my strength levels at the level of a sclerotic dwarf. I like to lift weights, in a display of my rugged, yet cuddly, masculinity. I do not want to cissy about on the shanner machines. Hopefully, I can in a circumspect manner, move my way onto the weights bench in due course.
On the way back from the gym we got caught in the rain. Phil put a newspaper and I jokingly said: “Whats wrong, are you going to melt?” I forgot of course that the rain out here is acidic, so yes you possibly might.

Kenneth's guide to Scotland.
One of the many conversations I have with people is about my homeland, Scotland. Most people I meet do not know very much about Scotland and so I do my best to fill them in. As I have met quite a few debate folk, I tend to give things quite a debatey slant and as a lot of former debaters look at the blog, I will include this here. Much of my humour is self deprecating, and this injects itself into the tales of my homeland. So, I thought it might be entertaining to include some of my random banter in my own guide to scotland. This is part one.


Let us begin with St Andrews. The reason being that it is the first place place in Scotland I was ever asked about here. A Korean was thinking of applying for a masters there. St Andrews is possibly the strangest place in Scotland, truly bizarre. Take one of the worlds oldest Universities and plonk it in the middle of Fife. Indeed, you cannot understand St Andrews without knowing a little bit about Fife itself.

Ah yes the Kingdom of Fife. You see, calling themselves the Kingdom is not in anyway an expression of superiority. It is the recognition that their level of social development resembles that of a feudal society. The average intelligence resembles someone from Medieval times and upon entering Fife you are asked by a patrol to present your longbow. When driving through Kirkcaldy, you might reasonably expect to see Kevin Costner being catapulted about and when someone from Fife sues, they do so referencing the Magna Carta. In a more modern move, residents of Glenrothes boast that the oundabouts are the most attractive in Scotland. To which someone might reply: “Ooh, they have flowerbeds, did NASA help you come up with that? Did the relevant council worker get a Nobel Prize? Well done, you have beaten out god forsaken East Kilbride, fuck a doodle do!” Well thats Fife. Ahem.
Now in Fife you have this little pocket of intellectualism and conservatism that is St Andrews. The residents can have quite a haughty and defensive air about them, but people should not be offended, its just the reflexive fear that the rest of Fife will come and rape and pillage them. But St Andrews is conservative. Very. So conservative, that during the American Civil Rights movement they organised themselves into drilled groups of volunteers. Drilled groups of volunteers trained to operate the water cannons firing on the protesting Blacks. St Andrews is also the home of golf and sees many rich white Americans make a pilgrimage to the spiritual home of the great game. (Also, to say thanks for the water cannon help.) Some Golf aficionados are confused about the fact that so few Black, Jewish and poor people play Golf. They are not after they visit St Andrews. In fact many of the rich white Americans like it so much, they feel compelled to send their sons and daughters there to study.

Knowing what a weird place it is, I always used to be surprised at how relatively normal the St Andrews debaters used to be. ( I say relatively normal, because lets face it, debaters are weird.) Over the years I have known some great folk from the IV crowd, Miranda, John, Jason, Comedy Dave, Doug, Connie, Jazz. (Sorry for any prominent names missed out.) St Andrews have built an absolute machine of an IV squad, Doug and Connie have had massive success this year as have Jason Vit and UCC luminary 'Smooth' Tony Murphy. The only non GUU speaker I have debated with is the man, they myth, the legend, John Stewart. They are probably, I must grudgingly admit the strongest debating society in Scotland. Yet, yet the basis for all these victories are the phenomena known as Lower Parliament Hall debates.

LPH debates, for shortness, seem to be the greatest gatherings of fruit loops and weirdos the world have ever seen. First off, they all kick about wearing red robes, but with no other discernible dress code. So you might get a fetching looking gent with a three piece suit and red robe, quite smart. However, another person might wear Chinos and a Hawaiian shirt as sported by a particularly loud American I remember. They are run by the ominous 'Board of Ten', which makes them sound more like the Chinese Communist Party than a debating society. They also do this really weird 'Thats cheap' banter. It works like this, if I understood correctly, any time a speaker in the debate says a sum of money, like a hundred pounds, the audience shout back:
“How much?”
Speaker: “A hundred pounds!”
Audience: “That's cheap!”
Again this strikes me as reminiscent of the Chinese Communist Party. “Seven hundred million dollars to build a Casino in the Gobi desert. Thats cheap!”

There are various other strange procedures and rules thrown in along the way. Now fair enough, internal debating societies do a lot of weird stuff, the GUU certainly has its quirks. However, what is what is really strange is that they do this all these shenanigans at both the IV and individual speakers competition, when other societies come to compete. External debaters just look around slack jawed, waiting for the moment when the masks come off and the lizard heads are revealed. The St Andy's IV debaters, who probably quite enjoy this stuff, all look a little embarassed at the practices. Now its quite funny when your racist uncle comes round for a family Sunday roast, but if your mate Hardeep is around, then his send them back on the boats routine is a bit mortifying.

Now of course I am exaggerating for effect. The LPH debates are actually lots of fun... but still weird. Furthermore, I used to visit St Andrews a lot and it does make a lovely visit. It also has a restaurant called Garfunkel's, which has an enormous model train track going through it, so a little train whizzes by while you munch away. I used to think that this, along with Optimus Prime was the greatest thing in the world. As I have said the IV squad are lovely people and great debaters. In fairness, the rest of Fife is not really that bad. Anstruther, near St Andrews has Fish and Chips, so good, that they may be Ambrosia as spoken of by the Ancient Greek Gods. Also, Dunfermline produced the ace Euan Baxter and Glenrothes' Morag Harvey is far a greater asset than any of its roundabouts. (I can still understand why Rebus is depressed all the time mind.)

Tune in next time for the next stop in Kenneth's review of Scotland. Dundee.

http://news.scotsman.com/index.cfm?id=715852007

I think it would be wise for Douglas Alexander to fall on his sword for this one. People are looking for blood on this and they will not stop until they get it. For example, my nana was on messenger for about forty five minutes yesterday, giving it what for, albeit typing astonishingly slowly. Also, you know you are in trouble, if a disparate coalition of Jim Devine, Mark Lazarowicz and John Robertson are coming after you. The East Scotland hardnut, the hippy QC and the West Coast curry muncher. Now he is a friend of Gordon Brown, which is why a dignified resignation would have meant a bump in the road, rather than the end of his political career. If he allows this to draw on, his reputation will be damaged irrecoverably and not even Britain's greatest chancellor in the world and all of history will be able to help him.

Also, he maybe should resign because it looks to be his fault, obviously.

In other news it is raining very heavily today. And I thought I did not have an umbrella, But then I found an umbrella, which means I won't get wet. Yeah, I really don't have much news.

http://sport.scotsman.com/index.cfm?id=709602007
Ally McCoist is absolutely right in his comments here. Rangers have achieved nothing than a good project in damage control. Scottish football is a two horse race, and when the blue horse finishes behind the green and white horse, second place is simply no consolation. If the Rangers set up starts thinking that second place is in any way worthy of acclaim then it is a very dangerous ceding of mental strength to Celtic. Celtic deservedly won the SPL this season, but that just makes them first among equals.

This reminds me of the time Liverpool had a pitch celebration after winning at Old Trafford a few years ago. It was pathetic. Liverpool Football club beating Manchester United in the league, even at home, is not a massive achievement. That club just calls that Saturday. However, it was symptomatic of the false objectives for success that Gerard Houllier and Phil Thompson set for the club.

Genuinely noteworthy achievements are really quite rare in sport and that is a good thing. It makes them all the more special. Now, two Champions League finals in three years, that is something to shout about. However, Rafa Benitez is not shouting too loud, which is why he is a better manager than Houllier ever will be.

Lib Dem and SNP coalition. I reckon it will take about a week, but this is the scenario that will pan out. Why?

Well, the Lib Dems seem resolutely against any independence referendum. Tavish Scott has forthrightly declared: “We will not be the handmaidens to independence.” Now it seems the SNP have gotten themselves pretty chummy with the Greens, giving that coalition 50 votes. However, it would I think be a pretty measly 50 votes. Being presented with a pro independence coalition, would give the perfect blueprint for an anti independence opposition coalition to form. It would mean that the SNP would be able to do very, very little as a Government. Crucially, it means the SNP have no chance under any circumstanses of getting the referendum passed. Salmond knows this, knows sticking to the referendum pledge will be an empty gesture and make the election a pyrrhic victory for the SNP.

So he will present his party with a stark choice, no referendum and no governing or no referendum and an effective government. All this “minority administration” banter is just bluff as far as I am concerned. There will be kicking and screaming, oh yes, but Salmond is a canny operator and should get heads to turn. (However, in doing so, he may sow the seeds for massive SNP divisions in the future.)

The sums do not lie. The SNP have the moral authority to lead the Scottish Government, but they do not have the moral authority for the referendum.

Oh, in my recap of Saturday nights gallivanting, I forgot to mention an embarassing, if humorous incident.
Now, via the medium of Facebook, Derek 'Jimmy' Doyle requested that I try and create a “steamy love affair” for the blog. Now when one of the finest men ,of one of the finest debating societies in the world makes such a request, a gent is obligated to acquiesce and try and fulfill such a demand. So, I was in the Spy Bar/Club as I said in the earlier post, and I tried at points to give some ladies some banter. I was having a conversation with one girl and we got onto the subject of food. I was discussing the different types of Korean cuisine I have enjoyed etc, etc. Now in the middle of this polite discourse, the girl states: “In Scotland you must eat a lot of fast food”, leans down and pats my belly.

I'll be honest, I was a little taken back as I tried to formulate a response. I thought about reaching into the Digger Grant dictionary of chat and coming back with: “Well you see love, it does not matter about the size of the nail, when you have a fifteen stone hammer behind it.” (To those that have never met the mercurial Digger, that works far, far more than you would ever believe.) I thought about going for the serious: “Well yes in fact Scotland does suffer from an exceptionally bad diet and our life expectancy is amongst the worst in the developed world.” I pondered all out aggression: “Oh aye, you think so ya rank midden of a skinny whorebag.” Or a mix of the last two: “Yes in Scotland we do have an unhealthy relationship with food, we also have a signifcant problem with knife crime.” Good natured humour: “Well, you know when John Donne said “No man is an Island”, he had never seen me in the swimming pool on a lilo.” In the end, I think I gave a weak smile and went for a shot at the bar.

Now to put this little remark in context, it was not as if this bird was North East Asia's answer to Jessica Alba. In fact in a country full of beautiful women, in a nightclub with a fair share too, she was really nothing special. I mean I really was not batting well out of my league. If I had a gotten a cheeky wee pull, it would hardly be like hitting a boundary, a couple of runs really. I might have met her again, but I would have to already been free, I would not have broken an appointment or anything.

Anyway, we'll see next weekend if I can get any closer to fulfilling Jimmy's request.

Things are starting to heat up in Seoul. Firstly, the temperature is now beginning to rise, with the thermometer hitting the mid twenties in celsius. (That is about seventy five in fahrenheit.) Now the AC in our office is crappy and we are not sure if it is actually on. The result is, office relations, are becoming a hit heated. (Do you see what I did there? Clever I am.) Now my colleague Phil is a big guy and does not seem to appreciate heat in the slightest. He has been understandably concerned about our offices Saharan impressions and has attempted to open windows etc, to cool things down. Today I am really feeling it, so much, that I keep expecting a big red guy with a fork to start poking and mocking me from behind. (That would be Chief Hightower that works in accounting.)

However, Phil's previous attempts to cool things this has not been received well by two of the Koreans who work in the office, with their complaints of being cold. (The Korean office assistant speaks no English, but communicates her complaints through a series of animal like cries and whimpers.) The window is opened, meheww, murf, eush! Our supervisor has explained that she and the assistant feel cold. Cold? Are they mad? Ah no, the justification for their pleas of chilliness are that they are thin. This answer comes with the clear implication, that as they are thin, natural justice demands that the chubbsters should be forced to sweat.

This I find absurd on a number of levels. Firstly, granted they are slender, but it is not as if they suffer from a life threateningly emancipated physique. They have not been locked up in a concentration camp, stop whining and have a Big Mac. Secondly, if they are cold, they can put on a jumper, I cannot remove a roll of fat. My belly is not a fashion accessory that I am simply heaving around for banters sake. And of course they are not really cold, they are just talking profligate shite and whining because they can.

The other teacher is a Korean. However, she has a more western physique shall we say and is no stranger to some Mr Simple Carbohydrate herself. So, the battlelines have been drawn. Who will win in this battle to control the temperature in the office? Stay tuned. Same fat channel, same fat hour.

Not long back after dinner. In a brave cultural decision, I was out at TGI Friday's. However, unlike the TGI in Buchanan Street they don't have nice milkshakes and the staff don't pester you every five minutes until you have to threaten to press their novelty badges into their thumbs. I had some spaghetti and was actually really quite enjoying it, until I thought these meatballs are the dogs bollocks. I then lost my appetite.

I am going to have an interesting working week. My colleague Phil is off to run the tab at the big All Asians tournament that starts on Monday. In exchange, I get to cover Phil's classes at work and lose one of my days off. If only I had taken the deal when the banker offered. Bugger. So, while Phil and other folk I know are living it up, rhetorical style for a week, I will very likely grow more and more bitter as the days go by. As I whitter on about 'americanisation' to the little angels, I can fantasise about engaging in lively discourse with some lovely Asian ladies. “Oh, you noticed my tie did you, I got this tie while I was on the ESU national debates tour of the United States. Ah yes, I actually topped the team tab at the European debating championships. Europe is like Asia, but in a different place. I remind you of Sean Connery, oh everyone says that...” These kids has better behave this week, I'll have the patience of David Tait on steroids.

I had a night on the batter last evening and luckily managed to avoid getting completely black out rat arsed. The advantage of this is that I did not have a discussion with the toilet bowl this morning. The disadvantage is that I was sober enough to actually understand some of the conversations I had. With a young French guy who had no idea what I was talking about when I asked if he was a Royal or a Sarkozy supporter. He seemed genuinely amazed by the news that there was an election on at home. A weird, leering and misanthropic American who after learning I had a degree in Philosophy kept trying to steer the discussion towards existentialism, despite the fact I remember nothing about existentialism. Existentialism is ironically, usually a subject for conversation that makes me want to wish I was never born. When you are properly pissed, the most boring and inane banter feels like high tea with Oscar Wilde. Ah well, at least my liver did not try to be relocated to a battered womens shelter this morning.

BTW, absolutely nobody has left me any funny stories. You are all either a bunch of boring or selfish nincempoops.

SNP victory. A nightmare work week coming up. I am feel a bit glum.

But, a couple of cans of Korean lager before night on the town. Then results for the old firm come in. A 2-0 victory for the bears, Wattie is back and next season is looking good. And then I remember, it is really not a bad old life is it?

I opened another one of the windows in my apartment there. It is starting to get hot and stuffy in Seoul.

Now opening a window is not usually an important occurence. However, it is nightime here and I am quite reticent about opening windows. Why? Vampires. Yes vampires. Now I know I am twenty three and I am grown up and that an irrational fear of vampires is not very well, rational. But I had a very, very overeactive imagination as a child and I used to imagine that all manner of things were coming to get me. Vampires, goblins, demons, R Kelly.

I know it is a bit silly, but I cannot entirely shake it off. I mean I don't actually think vampires are going to get me, but I can wake up at night, half asleep and I hear a rustling and bam! One scared Fleming. I mean it would make no sense that a vampire would even go for me. In films, the bloodsuckers go for virginial, buxom maidens. I am not a maiden. Seriously, I doubt Dracula is suddenly going to be entranced by an overweight weegie, whose bed is surrounded by empty bottles of coke and whose snoring resembles a herd of Humpback whales. Nevertheless, I still get a little freaked by having my windows open.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/david_aaronovitch/article1728760.ece

I thought this was a great article.

I had a very long piece prepared that I was going to post about the elections. However, I feel I say nothing that has not already been said. The general gist is, don't vote SNP. I think rather a lot of Scots are going to disagree with me though.

I thought this was an interesting article. Controlled in its tone, unlike the mostly frenzied coverage of the Scottish elections. http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/thereporters/evandavis/


Amazingly, that little link up there is the basis for the fiftieth post on this blog. I honestly never saw myself making fifty posts in Korea, but there you go. I think the blog had undoubtedly been a good idea. I think it is less pestersome than the group e-mails and in many ways it has been a great release for me. Venting on a post, is not unlike getting something off your chest and I always feel better after a good rant. Also, I think some of the stories and banter has been quite entertaining, and if it has brightened up a few workday mornings, or punctuated the studying woes then it has been well worth the effort.

Now, in the hope that I have in fact given some entertainment with the tales of my Korean adventures, I am asking for some stories too. The only problem with the blog is that it is a bit of a one way street and feel I am a bit out of the loop with some of my friends at home. So, I have a request, I would like everyone to leave me a funny or interesting story from the past wee while. Just jot it down in the comments section. Nae bother. It does not have to involve crazy hagwon bosses, but anything that will raise a smile. That is your challenge should you should to accept it. This blog post will self destruct in five seconds. (No it won't actually...)