While waiting at a layover in the Atlanta airport, I’m sitting in a little restaurant/pub with my camera sitting out on the table. One of the restaurant employees is bussing the table and says, “hey that’s a really cool camera. It must’ve cost you about $399.” You better believe I had that camara clenched in my fist during the rest of my meal.

Well, my jetset lifestyle once again has me sitting on a plane in Buffalo, NY, waiting to go to Atlanta. My flight has been delayed by over an hour now, which while it does suck, was actually to my benefit because I was so late getting to the airport that I would have missed the flight if it had been on time. Canada was definitely interesting, and I’ll try to note it all now. That way, if you read this you’ll already know the punchline to any stories I tell about Canada.

The trip started off on a bad foot when I first tried to cross the border into Canada. Kat had previously told me a story about her ex going up to Canada for business and lying to the customs people so he didn’t get any trouble when entering the country. I totally forgot this story, so when I’m crossing the border and the guard says “whatcha visiting Canada for, eh?”. I reply “I’m here on business.” The guy then yells at me for driving through eight ficticious stop signs on the bridge (seriously) and tells me that I’m going to have to go in to the customs office to make sure everything is kosher. Fine.

I go into the customs office where there are no less than ten Canadian mounties hanging out with nothing to do. Three people look at the slip of paper I got at the border crossing and finally point me to the correct person to talk to. I speak with a customs agent who immediately starts grilling me about what I’m visiting Canada for. “Who do you work for? How long are you staying? Where are you staying? Where is your company located? What kinds of services are you performing for the Canadian company? Are they paying you for this visit?” It went on for a while. Since I’ve never done anything like this before and my company isn’t generally used to sending R&D people to foreign countries to work on problems (this is the first time it’s happened since I’ve been working for the company), I had absolutely no documentation about the customer with me. Instead, I just had about $10k worth of my company’s equipment, and $600 for gambling. After the flurry of questions, the customs agent began to tell me all the stuff she could do to me. “I could send you back right now….I could make you wait here until your company provided me with a bill of sale for the products you sold to the Canadian company….I could permanently refuse your entry into Canada” Not my day. But, luckily for me, the customs agent decided to let me into the country anyway. She said that if my company were located in Buffalo, she would have sent me back on the spot. But, since I flew in from Austin, TX, she was going to let it slide. She also provided me with the NAFTA document outlining all of the information that I am obligated to provide when I enter Canada for business.

So after a half hour of getting a stern talking to, I went on my way to Oakville, Canada. The business visit really wasn’t of much interest. We already what we supposed was going to be a working solution. I was just up there on a goodwill mission, to let them know that we care about them as well as to ensure that they implemented the changes we suggested correctly as well as to answer any technical question they’ve ever had about our products. That part was alright. The rest of the trip was the interesting part. Here’s what I learned about Canada.

1. Canadians really do say eh at the end of every sentence. Well, not all of them, but definitely the younger ones. The customers I was working with didn’t really have an accident, but our local sales guy and most of the other people I met definitely did.
2. Canadians don’t believe they say aboot (instead of about). But they most definitely do.
3. The road/highway system is completely fucked there. I guess as a part of being a commonwealth they took to the goofy street placement that London has. I’ve only been truly lost two times in my life. The first time I was in London. The second time I was somewhere in downtown Toronto. And jim can back me up on this: I’m not one to get lost. In fact, even if I have a lot to drink, I’m still really good with directions.
4. There were no maple syrup fountains in any of the restaurants, bars, or other locations I visited (that was really disappointing)
5. Canada loves Our Lady Peace. I heard more Our Lady Peace songs on the radio than Linkin Park and Papa Roach combined. That’s saying something.
6. Even in Canada, the edge still repeats it’s programming every fourty five minutes. Since I didh’t have the forsight to bring any cds with me, I was stuck listening to a lot of radio
7. Rotis are phenomenal. A roti is some kind of Carribean curry wrap. I got turned on to this roti place by one of the customers I was there to visit. They were incredibly spicy, but I liked it so much I had one on my last day in town. On a side note, how do you like that roti link? That’s some of the most atrocious html I’ve ever seen. I like going visiting websites like that every now and again to remind myself why I hate everyone.
8. Canadian sales tax is crazy. It’s over ten percent (read on)
9. Canadians are the most polite people I’ve ever met. Even moreso than people in the South. When I was at the casino I had ten canadian dollars left over. I went into the gift shop to buy kat a t-shirt (I realize it was a stupid idea, but at 4am it sounded good) I was short. The t-shirt was $8.99 CA, but with tax the total came out to $10.34. That’s right, the sales tax rate there is over 10%. And that’s not some sort of special casino tax rate, that’s normal sales tax in Canada. The guy gave me the shirt anyway. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it was supercool.
10. There’s a reason the call it the “great white nort” (purposely missing the ‘h’ because that’s the way they say it up there). It was pitch black out on the way to the casino and there was just about nothing inbetween. And when I left the at 4:30am, there was a layer of frost on my windshield. FREEZING.
11. Canadians are the most polite drivers I’ve ever seen. I was honked at there multiple times for doing things that in America would be expected. When Canadians see a yellow light, they immediately stop. They seriously do not drive through yellows. They take it to mean it’s time to stop, rather than going with the Amarican belief that you should always try to beat a yellow light.
12. Instead of “merge” or “lane ends” signs, Toronto has “sqeeze left” signs.
13. When playing craps, bet the Field. I know it’s a sucker bet, but it treated me unbelievably well.
14. Fuck video poker. It still sucks. I would rather put my money in a slot machine.

That’s all I can think of for now. On to long-winded stories.

So while I was driving around downtown Toronto, I was listening to the edge and the DJs were talking about how they wanted to start a trend of saying a.w.k. to mean awkward, kind of taking a stab at the whole betspeak business. I think it’s a pretty good idea.

Gambling
Now everyone that knows me knows I’m way into gambling, so when I found out I was getting shipped to Canada for a few days, I immediately had to look for local casinos to see where I would be playing. I definitely had to make the trek to casino rama because it is the only casino in all of Canada that has a poker room. The only problem, was that it was about an hour and a half north of Toronto. Add that to the fact that I was staying in Oakville (suburb west of Toronto) and it’s a two hour trip each direction. Getting there was an adventure. The directions on the website were simple. “From Toronto: Take HWy 400 north to HWY 11. Take HWY 11 East to HWY 12. Take HWY 12 south to Rama. Gamble the night away.” Unfortunately, there was some missing information. I didn’t really have a good map of Toronto. Instead I had a horribly distorted map that came in a hotel entertainment guide magazine. I followed the map into downtown Toronto, but never saw HWY 400. Jesus. So I get off the interstate in the downtown area and start driving north, since that’s the direction I want to go anyway. The road I happen to be on has a ton of construction, so I decide to turn and see if I can find another street going north. Instead I end up in some kind of neighborhood and the street continues to wind this way and that until I am actually confused as to my direction of travel. I find what appears to be a major road, turn left thinking that’s going to lead me north, only to find that the road dead ends three blocks later. After thirty minutes of wandering around, I finally end up exactly where I started. Fucking nightmare. Finally the local sales guy calls me to confirm our visit the next day and while I’ve got him on the phone I have him give me directions to HWY 400. Free at last. so now I’m going north on 400 and I see a sign for 11, This, unfortunately, is the actual exit sign so since I’m travelling 80 MPH and I’m in the fast lane, there’s no way I’m going to make it to the exit. No worries, I’ll just get of at the next exit. The next exit turned out to be 10 km away. So tack on 13 miles to my overal trip. Alright, fine. I take 11 east through a bunch of small towns (I’m something like 30 minutes outside of the Toronto area), but I never see HWY 12 much less the city of Rama. Finally after travelling about 30 km, 11 dead ends (not at HWY 12). Shit. I must have missed it. I stop in a gas station to ask the attendent how to get to the casino. He kind of laughs when I ask him and says “let me get a map to show you”. That’s right, I was so far off where I wanted to be, that the guy had to pull out a map to show my how dumb I was. It turned out that I had gotten off at 11, which was *not* HWY 11. So I had actually travelled 30 km going the wrong direction (that’s 20 miles people). HWY 11 was actually another half hour north on HWY 400. So now tack on another 60 km to my overall travel. Now i’m absolutely livid, but at the same time completely determined that I’m going to make it to this casino. I finally get to HWY 11 and on to HWY 12 and finally into Rama where there are signs that tell me which direction to go to get to the casino (thank goodness). Unfortunately the signs to the casino are fucking with me. Rather than saying how far away the casino actually is, the signs just tell me how far it is to the next sign telling me where the casino is. So the first sign says 3 km. The second sign says 5 km. The third sign says 8 km. Finally, I’m certain that this place actually doesn’t exist because it’s pitch dark outside and I can’t see any lights for miles. Finally, I get to the casino. It looks like a lodge. I seriously expect that when I walk in the door there’s going to be a roaring fire in one corner and a bearskin rug with a single poker table on it (actually, that would be kinda cool). But, at long last I finally get into the casino (and it is a real casino there) and get on the list to play 2-5 poker.

The poker table I sat down at was crazy awesome. There were two of the worst poker players I’ve ever played with at the table. They would be anything. And call it down all the way too. No matter what, they were raising every round. Now a lot of people at the table were pissed off about this because they felt that having some jackass betting at everything makes the game more of a luck game and less of a strategy game. Those people were completely wrong. Having people that bet crazy just means that you need to fold more often than you normally would. Don’t let it bother you that you sometimes fold what would have been the winning hand, because when you do have that winning hand it’s going to pay you 3-4 times as much as it would if no one were playing crazy like these guys. These were 11 person tables and a minimum of 5 people were seeing each flop with a capped preflop bet of $8. That’s a lot of money. And most people that stayed in were seeing the turn as well for another $8 a piece. That means you’ve already got a $75 pot and you haven’t even hit the expensive rounds yet. It was nice. I was up and down a bit, but I ended my poker night up $80. I seriously wished I didn’t have to work the next day because there was just so much money waiting for me at that table. There were 11 players in the game, but there was easily $3000 on the table. I saw the guy sitting next to me rebuy 5 times in the span of two hours. I’ll sit at a poker table with him anytime. And to make it even better, this guy provided me with a good story.

So I’m chit-chatting with the crazy gambler next to me. He mentions something about where he’s from (somewhere an hour or two away from Niagara Falls in Canada. Once he finds out that I’m from Texas, he starts with the questions: Do you have a gun, eh? Do you like George Bush, eh? Who you, eh, votin’ for there in the U.S. election, eh? We talk about America for a while and then I mention something about not really being familiar with the North much at all (Canada or NY). He says, “Do you know who the Bills are?”. And without thinking, I immediately reply “Yeah, they’re that terrible football team from Buffalo.” a.w.k. Why was it awkward? I’m sitting at a table with a bunch of country bumpkin Canadians, not civilized Canadians from Toronto, but the small town kids out in the “big city”. Every single person at the table was a Buffalo Bills fan. All of them. No one really talked to me anymore after that one. That’s ok though, they donated to my gambling habit and I appreciate them for it.

After winning some money at poker, I decided it was time to go, since it was 3:30 and I had to drive the 2+ hrs back to my hotel in order to be up at 8:00am to do some customer visits with the sales guy. But, as with all things, I got stuck playing craps for an hour, only to end up breaking even. Finally, at 4:30am, I decided it was time to head back. I was back in the hotel room by 6am (no wrong turns this time) and awake for the sales guy by 8am. It was a rough morning.

Casino Rama totals:
craps: broke even (w00t! that’s a win in my book)
poker: up $80
video poker: down $70

The next night I opted not to go back to casino rama. Though I didn’t have anything to do on friday, I figured I should go ahead and see some of the toronto sights. After sleeping away most of the afternoon, I woke up in time to make it to a second city comedy show. It was a lotta fun, but as witih all things, it’s only so much fun if you don’t have anyone to discuss it with afterward. After wandering around a little after the show, I called up the sales guy and make plans to hang out with him and his friends from his hometown. Now this guy is quite a character. He was born in Hong Kong, but grew up in a small town in the middle of nowhere Canada. So in some respects he’s like me, since I’m a Panamanian that grew up in small town oklahoma, but this guy definitely messed with my mind. He had a pretty thick canadian accent, like on the order of rick morannis in Strange Brew. But he looks like the stereotypical spiky-haired asian that you’d find at any Best Buy or Fry’s location. Hanging out with him and his high school friends was a lot of fun. Just like with any group that knows each other really well, they made a lot of references to people that I’ve never met before, but it was still superawesome ot just spend time out with people after spending time alone for the past few days.

The next morning I woke up at the crack of 11:30am, determined to find the roti place. I called the customer that had gotten me one previously for directions and went on my way. After a couple U-turns, I found it. I can’t express how tasty rotis are. Hopefully I’ll be able to find a place in Austin that makes them. They are hellaspicy though. You know you’re in trouble when there are more than three spice levels: nothing, mild, touch, medium, medium+ (?), hot, suicide. That’s right suicide. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to recover when I got a medium the first time. And I actually had to buy another drink when I ate a ‘touch’ version. I’M SPICY!

I saw Niagara Falls on my way back. It was way cooler than I thought it would be, but I still can’t believe that people go there for thier honeymoon. It very well may be the lamest vacation destination, because you look at it for maybe an hour and then that’s it. You can’t swim in it, you can’t dive off the top (well, maybe you can – but you’re not supposed to), it’s just a waterfall that’s really cold most of the time. It still looks cool though. After looking at the falls for a while, I ventured into the casino (why wouldn’t I) to play some craps before my flight. I played craps for a while and was up and down for a while before I finally just started hitting like crazy. It was a $10 minimum table and I was maxing odds on every bet on the table. That did well for a while, but then I got hit pretty hard. Frustrated and short on time, I took all my winnings and bet the field multiple times, pressing my field bet all the way up to $100 at one point. Five rolls later, I’ve got $300 profit and I tip out all the rest. It’s 4:00 pm when I leave the casino (on the Canadian side) and I’ve still got a 30-45 minute drive ahead of me to make my 5:15 flight. I hauled ass all the way to the airport, dump of the car, and get to the ticket counter 15 minutes before the flight. The clerk tells me I’m not getting on the flight at first, but notices that the flight is delayed by 40 minutes and decides to let me on. I seriuosly would have raised hell if the flight were delayed I they didn’t let me on. fuck all that noise.

Casino Niagara totals:
craps: +$300 canadian (so it’s only really $250)

This post is obnoxiously long, so I’ll end it here. I’m sure I’ll think of other remarks to make about the trip later.

In accordance with my newfound jetset lifestyle, this post is also a few days old.

10.26.2004
Las Vegas was once again fantastic. Although this time I probably saw less of it than I have in previous trips. Kat and I spent the majority of our time playing poker in the mirage poker room. Their poker room is still awesome – the dealers are understand the game, deal quickly, and don’t put up with a bunch of shit from people. Just the way I like it. I think I played a total of 28 hours of poker over the course of 3 days and 3 nights. We even got line passes and comps for some food, which was a nice touch. I also met some pretty interesting people again. Probably not anyone I’ll ever see again, but who knows. It’s funny though. I got back from vegas last night at 11pm and I’m currently trying to think of when the next time I can go will be.

I’m on my way to Buffalo, NY right now. Once I get off the plane I’m going to drive to Toronto to attempt to solve a customer issue onsite. This is the first time I’ve ever had to do this, so while I’m anxious about whether I’ll actually be able to solve the problem, I’m excited as well. My plane is flying over whichever of the great lakes is by buffalo and i’m in this horrendously small plane so we’re flying much lower to the ground than we would be in a 737. It’s pretty cool though. Since it’s fall, you can see all the trees changing color, which happens in Austin to some degree but nothing on the order of being this far north. This will be my first trip into Canada, and honestly it’s going to be hard to look this customer in the face and not continually sing “Blame Canada” to myself.

I actually wrote this post on my way out to vegas, but as awesome as the the mirage is, they still charge $10/day for internet access. LAME.

Begin old post:
I was so excited by the things in a previous post that I didn’t mention the stuff that I had seen that sucked. First, I was watching the TRIO network (which is generally awesome BTW) which was showing the “documentary’ ‘Kurt and Courtney’. It’s a documenatary where some jackass from England drives all over the west coast talking to a bunch of strung out herion addicts that claim to have been friends with either Kurt Cobain or Courtney Love. Absolutely ridiculous. Not that I believe that his theory that Kurt was murdered is so bad (I don’t really have a feeling on that one) but the guy just wasted a bunch of time “interviewing” people when all he was really doing was putting words in their mouth over and over again until they repeated it. I love trashy journalism techniques. Example with Kurt’s last girlfriend before Nirvana, whom “About a Girl” is supposedly written:
British Jackass: So would you say that you were sort of a mother figure to Kurt?
Ex G/F: Well, I guess maybe I mothered him more than he wanted me to.
BJ: So you were kind of acting like the mother he didn’t have growing up?
Ex. G/F: Yeah, I guess I mothered him
BJ: Right, then you were the mother figure that he was looking for because he didn’t have a real mother growing up.
Ex G/F: …
BJ: There you have it, he was searching for a mother figure. Now I need to take a break so I can stick another cucumber up my ass.

(I might have made up that last part)

And in other news, when I was strolling into work this morning (at around 11:45), I was behind a car with “W. is my President” shoe polished on the back windshield. Two points on this issue:

1: I live in Texas. It’s a VERY conservative state. It’s George Bush’s home state. There is absolutely no chance that John Kerry will win this state. There really isn’t a great need strongly campaign for Bush here.
2: This isn’t a fucking high school state championship. We’re electing a President for the United States of America. There are plenty of free bumper stickers, t-shirts, signs, etc. that you could use to show your support. Shoe polishing cars should be reserved for high school cheerleaders and the like, not for 40 year old handicapped women. (maybe

Some Records sent me the lyric book for the Walking Concert cd “Run to be Born”. Walter Schreifels continues to impress with his musical progression. I’ve probably listened to this album a million times now, but having the book makes it a hell of a lot easier to decipher some of the lyrics. I guess they had some sort of manufacturing problem that caused my cd to be shipped without the insert. It’s pretty cool that they actually sent it out to me. Nice people over there.

I also saw “Team America” over the weekend. Even though I was a little too drunk to fully enjoy the movie, it was definitely worth it. I’m constantly amazed that Trey Parker and Matt Stone can still be funny, but they continue to pull it off. I guess there’s a lot of material out there these days with the current state of politics in this country. And while on the subject of politics, the other thing to see is John Stewart’s appearance on Crossfire. Now that’s comedic gold.

My next trip to Las Vegas is coming very soon. I’m overly excited because this time we’re staying at the Mirage, which has one of the finest poker rooms I’ve ever played in. In my effort to learn how to play every game in the casino I started looking into learning how to play the tile version of pai gow, which is one of the more complicated games I’ve seen (leave it to the Chinese). Before I forget, I should mention that wizardofodds.com is one of the best websites I’ve found for basic information on a number of casino games. I’ve been using it for years and it has done a good job explaining to me how I’m going to lose my money faster when I play Carribean Stud than when I play blackjack. Either way though, I’m probably going to start playing Carribean Stud when I get drunk and antsy enough.

Which ties back to another story I was going to mention. My mother once told me that I shouldn’t gamble because I’m part Chinese. What does being of Chinese decent have to do with gambling, you might ask? “Chinese people are addicted gamblers. That’s why I love gambling too, but I have to stay away from casinos altogether.” That’s right, I am an addicted gambler because I’m part Chinese (according to my mother). Oh yeah, and you probably can’t tell that I’m Chinese from the pictures in a previous post because I’m somewhere around 1/16th Chinese. Apparrently that’s enough though. Maybe there is some truth to it though. Chinese people have the most complicated gambling games out there. I absolutely love Mah-jongg and if I could ever learn how to really play the game well, you’d find me in the back of an Asian grocery store smoking a pack of lucky strikes playing mah-jongg with three dudes who smelled worse than the raw fish yelling “Mah-jongg motherfucker!” at a crowd of people that have never even heard of Ice Cube.

I may not be in college anymore, but in the last month I’ve definitely had some strange collegesque happenings. I guess they are mostly related to being on a college campus for most of the last month, but either way it’s pretty strange. I illegally entered a bar by jumping over some patio railing, I saw a bar fight (it wasn’t quite Roadhouse, but it was funny nonetheless), I drank crown in the student union of a dry campus at 3am, and more recently, I crashed a party across the street from my house and ended the night like a bulimic that wants to look like Kate Moss – not my finest moment. The first few happenings are old news and I guess somewhat expected if you’re going to be near a bunch of college students, but the party crashing night was totally random.

We started the night by attending a coworker’s 50th birthday party. It was a pretty damn awesome party too. He had all the party elements: party games (horseshoes, croquet), a band (they played a couple sets – not my kind of music, but I’m also not 50 and it was still enjoyable), food and drink (barbeque, desserts, beer, wine), and interesting people (not many lame-o’s in this group). Good times, good times. After the party we headed back to my place to catch up with some other friends, sit around and watch Mr. Show Season 4 and possibly play some poker. Once we got home, we noticed that there was a party going on across the street where our new neighbors had moved in. Kat decided that we should crash the party and introduce ourselves to these people, since we had seen them before and knew they were somewhat around our age. It turned out to be a pretty good time. I think we freaked them out a bit, but in the end they seemed to warm up to us. I just had a few too many drinks (or maybe it was the everclear jello shots?? It’s a mystery to everyone). Either way, I suffered for it. I woke up twenty minutes into my soccer game on Sunday. I crawled my ass out of bed and got halfway to the field before I realized that I forgot my soccer shoes. Nightmare. I made it to the game by halftime, held it together enough to finish out the game and we lost in the last two minutes of the game, 0-2. I wasn’t excited to be alive anymore. Apparently I’m starting to get old. I remember way back to last summer, where I stayed up all night drinking and still managed to play the game of my life the next morning. What ever happened to those days?

Technology is awesome. six years ago one of my teeth shattered while I was eating a bowl of fruit loops. It totally blew. I had never had a cavity before and POW!, one of my teeth was half gone. Well, after putting it off for a few weeks I finally decided to go to a dentist to see about getting it fixed, since it was cutting the inside of my cheek and was starting to really ache like hell. Since I had terrible dental insurance, the dentist presented me with two options: “for $30 I can remove the remaining tooth or for $3000 I can fix it by doing a root canal or a bridge or some shit like that” (note: I think I started paraphrasing somewhere in there). Either way, with a horrible amount of debt from my first year of college, I figured I’d go with the $30 option. He failed to mention the part where I wasn’t going to be under general anesthesia and he was going to pull the tooth out with the same pliers I’d use to remove a stripped out screw from the wall. That was some of the worst pain ever. I still have nightmares about it.

Fast-forward four years. I finally graduated from college. I had a good job as a computer engineer. I bought a car to replace the piece of crap I drove throughout college. I was doing well. So I decided I’d replace the missing tooth and hopefully ruin my chances of ever looking like a carnie again. My sister-in-law had already explained to me that what I really wanted was to have a dental implant (Finally, I can enjoy eating once again!). But if I was going to go to the trouble of drilling a screw into my jaw, I might as well make sure my teeth were aligned before I had the implant done. So I suffered with braces (both top and bottom) for over two years. It was a real pain in the ass. And then I the surgery where the screw was placed in my jaw. For six months after, I had to wear a retainer to keep the space open for the tooth while I waited for my jaw to heal. Next, I had my gums cut open and a metal cap (titanium!) placed in the screw and let the gums heal for a month. Finally, a couple weeks ago I had the tooth put in. Here’s the before and after.

before

after

after (with that crazy look in my eyes)

As if I didn’t have enough reasons to eat food that is horrible for me, General Mills has come out with my new favorite cereal — Peanut Butter Toast Crunch. All the peanutbuttery breakfast cereal goodness of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch, without the hardness to cut the roof of my mouth. I swear if I hadn’t already overeaten before I started eating this cereal, I would have finished the whole box. Instead I settled at half a box in one sitting. That’s some self-control.

And in other news:
Continuing in the vein of hating webforms, another growing trend with websites that is driving me insane is the ridiculous overuse of flash. The Crystal Method website is a great example of this, to pick on one. What ever happened to using the web to provide CONTENT to people who are interested in it? Everyone has to have the coolest-looking website and threw away the idea of having actual content that might be useful to people. For example, I’m currently listening to the Crystal Method’s newest album “Legion of Boom” and on track 2 “Born Too Slow” there is some dude singing worse than I could. I want to know who he is. Where can I find that on the website? NOWHERE! When I saw them at south by southwest this past year, they actually had this guy come out and sing the song with him. He looked like this trashy death metal guitar player named Bobby that played in my band in high school for a short time. Either way, the guy who sang this song was a scumy looking guy, but the crowd seemed to like him for some reason. Not worth wasting my time looking into. Instead, I’ll change the music and go with The Orb. Now they have a website that is easily managable. Within ten seconds of looking at their website, I found out that mc soom t did the vocals on track 2 (Aftermath). So maybe there is hope for the internet.

Apparently jim and I were separated at birth. We both chose our blog templates separately without any prior discussion and somehow we’re using the same one. Crazy. Check him out though, he’s has an unbelievable memory that I often use to recall childhood stories I’ve long forgotten.