Survivor Tale #2

By saturday afternoon I looked like this:


That was when Team Purple - by winning all but one challenge so far - had practically wiped out Orange. They were some hard-to-beat motherfuckers, let me tell you that. We had everything from close call to photo-finish, and it started the moment we set foot on the island.

The 1st challenge:
A scavenger hunt. Three persons of each team had to make their way from the wharf to the cottage, as fast as possible. That's maybe a 3 or 4 kilometer run. They also had to find a number of certain items like beach glass or pine cones. First team to reach the cottage with all 3 players wins the challenge. Each missing item equals a 3-minute time penalty.
The twist: One item involved a detour. We were supposed to rub off an engraving from a tombstone, like Indiana Jones did with the shield of the second brother. The graveyard we had to go to is about 500 meters into the woods, but we didn't know that then. More than half the players were completely unfamiliar with the islands layout.
The question we didn't ask ourselves was: Is the detour worth 3 minutes, shouldn't we just skip it?

By the way, this was a reward challenge. The winning team would get a proper breakfast next morning, coffee, eggs, bacon, while the other team would have to cook up their rations. Rice. Sardines out of cans. No coffee. Fuck that.

Our team picked two other guys and me to do this. So we decided that they would collect all the beach glass, shells and leafs, while I would run ahead to the cemetary, get that picture off that gravestone and grab a couple of pine cones.
Let me tell you that 3 or 4 kilometers can be a looong distance, especially if you haven't been running for a while and if you don't know where the fuck you're going. I was running in constant fear of missing the turn-off to the cemetary.
After a while I realized I was in the lead, with 2 orange persons about 50 and 100 meters back. So far, so good. I kept scanning the road for the turn-off (the instructions echoing in my head: it can be hard to see, so don't miss it, don't miss it...) I knew the orange ones didn't have that problem, they would just do what I was doing. But then I had a different idea: What if they didn't? What if they just skipped the fucking graveyard completely, betting on the fact that it most likely will take longer than 3 minutes to get that done?
When I looked back one of the orange ones was gone. What the fuck? Did I miss the turn? Two kids on bike were coming my way, I yelled: "Graveyard? Where's the graveyard?"
Down the road, they said, waaaaay down the road. I kept running for what seemed an eternity, still no sign of a cemetary. Still I had orange ones relatively close behind me, but also my fellow purple ones were catching up. A woman sitting in front of a cottage beside the road reassured me that the turn-off was coming up on the left. I had almost reached it when one of my purple comrades caught up with me. Man, that guy was in shape!
"Should we skip the cemetary?" I asked him. "Is it worth three minutes? They will skip it, I'm sure!"
He didn't make the decision for me. I had to make it myself. I had a feeling it was wrong to go there. We were in the lead, considerably so, all we had to do was run to the cottage. Decide, Brato, decide! Run to the cottage!
But it was about rubbing off an image from a gravestone! Like Indiana Jones! That's Indy, you hear me? Plus I still had to get those pine cones...

And so I ran into the woods. The path was straight, I grabbed some pine cones. Nobody was following me. Run back while you can! I kept going. Still no-one behind me. If Orange was to go here, I would've seen them by now. They were skipping it. I couldn't even see the cemetary yet. I was fucked. Fuck you Indiana Jones, hero of my childhood, fucker-upper of the first challenge! No coffee, no bacon, no eggs for Purple Team tomorrow morning because of you!

At last I got to the graveyard. Just a patch of grass with gravestones neatly alligned. I scanned them frantically, found that engraved thistle about halfway in, rubbed it off (it really works!), and ran back as fast as I could. When I got back to the road I was spent, completely out of breath, and completely alone.

I had gone from leader to last one. Nobody behind me, but up ahead in the distance I could see 2 orange specks. Was this a 3-minute-distance? I had to believe it. I could still make it. I ran after them. What else could I do?

After a while my legs felt like rubber. And it didn't exactly add to my good spirits that I seemed to be unable to close the gap. I wasn't faster than Orange. When they disappeared behind a bend in the road, I saw a purple person appear. New hope! It couldn't be far now! He was obviously waiting for me at the cottage! We could still make it!
When I reached him it turned out that the cottage was still way off (I could see orange in the distance), and that he was just as exhausted as I was.
"We have to make it inside 3 minutes!" I panted.
He (not the comrade from earlier, the other one) agreed.
We had to walk, but we kept going.

Far away I saw Orange turning off the road. They were at the cottage now.
We kept going.
A local dude with on an ATV passed us by, we tried to flag him down, make him give us a ride - it didn't happen.
We ran on.

Then we reached the cottage, stumbled up the driveway, collapsed on the lawn.
An erruption of shouting and yelling around us:
"Touch the deck! Touch the deck!"

One last effort: We touched the deck.
Then the voice of the game-master: "2 minutes, 52 seconds! Purple Team wins by 8 seconds!"

One of my favourite challenges was over.
Thank you, game-master.
Thank you, Indiana Jones.

Survivor Tale #1

The people in this country sure know how to relax and to party. It was one of the most crazy and fun weekends of my life, yet at the same time it was the most responsible partying I have ever seen. No injuries, no booze-stealing, no vandalism, no screaming in the neighbourhood at 4 AM, not even barfing. Where grown-ups in my home-country always seem to party either somewhat stiffly or completely out of bounds, as if they either had something else on their mind still or shut it off completely, the people here just... yes, relax. I like that.

So we went over there armed (each) with 10 feet of rope, a tarp, a fork & a bowl, bugspray and lots of beer last friday to play the game survivor.
For all of you who do not know how the game works: A bunch of players (in this case 15), some helpers (3) and one mastermind-in-charge go to an obscure island off the coast. The players are divided into two teams, and over the course of a weekend have to compete in challenges against each other. Everytime a team doesn't win, they vote one person off their team. Eventually the number of people in the teams will reach a certain low, that is when the teams are merged into one. From this moment on everybody plays for themselves, yet still after every challenge a person gets voted off. Therefore it becomes very important to make alliances with other players to prevent oneself from being voted out. In the end, when only two players are left, everybody perviously voted out gets to vote for one of them. Whoever ends up with more votes wins the game.

We were divided into teams while still on the boat by the method of handing out t-shirts - I became a member of Team Purple, later renamed to Purple Haze. Team Orange by the way decided to name themselves Orange-you-glad-you're-not-purple, but not before the first challenge was over, which started right when we got to the island, on the wharf.
The very last part of the game took place on the boatride back on monday afternoon, so during saturday and sunday we were kept busy with building our own shelters and latrines, cooking our rations, doing challenges, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes.
One night some crazy local guy on a three-wheeled ATV showed up, talking rapidly in a language I couldn't understand (some local slang I suppose, or influence of beer?). He brought with him his 19-year old girlfriend, one very small dog (the kind you think it's a furry slipper until you step on it and it barks) and three live lobsters, which he in turn let dangle clipped to his fingers. I decided it was time for another beer when the guy repeatedly clipped a live lobster to his nipple, laughing manically, speedtalking his slang.

crazy local guy and his dog

Back Again

We're officially back from the island. The dog welcomed us heartily, he also instantly sniffed out of my pants the following flavours (among others and definitely not in this order):

-ocean water/salt
-beach sand
-mustard, ketchup, relish, burger, hot dog, coffee, beer and other foods and beverages
-more beer
-crayon (black/dark blue)
-copious amounts of poisonous bug spray
-urine
-morning dew
-blood
-cigarette smoke
-sweat
-saliva from both myself and other dogs
-sunshine
-diesel fuel

My first priority now is to take a shower and put fresh clothes on, I will tell the whole island story later; hopefully I will also get my hands on some pictures.

Off To See The Wizard

In 20 minutes or so we will be on our way to some small remote island off the coast to play an obscure hillbillie hinterland rural version of the well known from tv game Survivor, of course without the chance of cashing in a million bucks. Why did I sign up for this again?

There will be no electricity, no phones, no internet.

If you don't hear from me by tuesday next week, please let the authorities know. 

Goodbye.

Hinterland Holiday

From the following ingredients: some plastic pipes, a bit of hairspray, 1 broomstick, 1 infinite number of potatoes and 1 (removed from barbecue grill) igniter my father in law assembled a device capable of shooting potatoes for purposes of grown-up boy play. In the video you can see my brother in law and me doing exactly that, and saying things like:

"It didn't fire!"



Not visible: 1 yet un-hit target coffee can on a stick.

Prediction for next year: Rich harvest of potatoes among uphill trees.

Money Well Spent

For more than a year now I have been keeping an eye on what we are spending for food and stuff every week. I keep all the receipts. Now finally, after 50 weeks of buying food in bf-nowhere I can present results:

In 50 weeks we have spent $7443.12 for groceries and other things, such als bus tickets or the occasional computer desk. This amount includes only money spent related to living in bf-nowhere: mainly food, cleaning, fishing supplies, but for example also gas money for the occasional drive to visit places with a little more civilizisation.

I have calculated an average spending of $148.86 per week. This includes all the necessities for comfortable living for two people, without restricting too harshly. The weekly goal is usually not to spend more that 150 bucks, which seems to have worked out so far.

As you can see we spend about 380 bucks for bread each year, which comes to almost 8 bucks per week. The rather high value of other is caused by two reasons: a) it includes everything that doesn't fit in any of the other categories, and b) we spent about 300 bucks last year in stamps for sending out Christmas presents overseas. By the way, the no rec category is for stuff with missing receipts, so I just estimated/remembered the amounts.

What I have noticed from buying with a budget in mind: It is so very easy to spend twice as much money for what seems to be the same stuff; it is even easier to forget where your cash has gone over the course of a week; and buying big packs/on sale items usually saves money: for example 15 lbs potatoes for 8.95 instead of 5lbs poatoes for 6.50, or 2 containers of laundry soap for 25 instead of 1 for 14.95 etc. That means: Even if you hate it when discounts order you to buy stuff, sometimes being obedient is the right thing to do.

You can see we spend most of our money for fresh fruit and vegetables, closely followed by fresh meat. These things are a little bit more expensive here in bf, as is everything. When we still lived in civilization we could usually make do with an average of less then 100 bucks per week.

Luckily all these statistics and calculations only apply to living in bf. I think we have already spent more than a hundred bucks since we got to the city this afternoon, for sushi, movies, cab rides, books. The cash just runs through our fingers. But that is why they call it holiday.

Vacation Time

Ah, civilization. Back in the big city. But I tell you, travelling in small planes is not one of my most favourite spare time activities. The only thing it has going for it is that it is about 10 times faster than the bus. The list of uncomfortabilities (?) is quite longer: expensive, not a lot of leg-space, bumpy, especially when flying below the clouds, I'm talking Achterbahn here, to the point of almost-barfing. The state of almost barfing is pretty interesting: Is it coming? Is it not coming? Should I grab the bag? Or not yet? Do I close my eyes or do I better leave them open? Think of something distracting, quickly! Yoghurt! No, not that! Liver! No, not fooooooodd.. baaaarrrrrfffffffff
The nice thing is, on a bumpy ride below the clouds they somehow manage to keep you exactly at the state of almost-barfing the whole time.
Right now I am sitting in an hotel lobby, enjoying complimentary wireless and a cold beer which actually says Pilsner on it. It was 5.60, so I had them put it on the room.
Earlier we went to see a movie at the cinema. I have to say I think I kind of have gotten used to living in bf-nowhere, enjoying movies on the small screen from our own sofa... Being in a multiplex again, with all those people with their stinking popcorn, chatting away.. I felt crowded, and a little bit sicked out by their sweat and their germs and their voices and everything. But then again, seeing a movie at the movie theatre is a nice thing to do. And because we only caught the late playing time we decided against the 2.5 hour Inception. Instead we watched the latest Angelina vehicle, Salt. Phillip Noyce, the man responsible for classics like Clear And Present Danger or Patriot Games did this one, desperately trying to deliver the next Jason Bourne. He doesn't quite succeed completely, still the movie is quite entertaining and certainly watchable. For some reason I really enjoy seeing spies climb building walls. And there are no flying tanks in it.
Holiday, here we come.

Toys

Because I work at the supermarket as a receiver I open boxes most of the time, I open boxes and I mark merchandise. Therefore I have a first hand view on what comes in, and sometimes I find myself pretty amazed by the variety and style of i.e. toys; more specifically: dolls and their houses.

I priced a dollhouse for 11" dolls (Barbies), a fold-able dollhouse with 3 rooms: Bedroom with closet and bed, living room with seating area and fireplace, and a kitchen with stove and fridge. So far, so good. Then I discovered additional accesories to this dollhouse, which are sold seperately. There are six accessories to the dollhouse, six extra "rooms" as follows: a piano, a garden setting (swingset), a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen and another kitchen.
Assuming someone buys the whole set, some little girl would play a dollhouse with a garden, a piano room, a living room, a bathroom, two bedrooms and three kitchens.
I can see the purpose of an extra bedroom, but why have three kitchens?
I tell you why: the whole set-up serves the purpose of gently easing the young girl into her later roles as a woman, therefore maximising kitchen time and underlining the importance of bedroom time. If five out of nine rooms are either bedrooms or kitchens, that means more than half of the time will be spent there, cooking, cleaning, getting fucked.

By the way, toys for boys take a quite similar approach, for example by naming the realisting looking plastic assault rifles simply "self-defense weapon".

I better go and get myself a "secret mission knife". Peace.

EMERGENCY EXIT NOW

One:
I visit my blog everyday to check for comments and to read it myself :), and I have noticed that I found myself looking at that screenshot of Ja2 a lot. I click it big and look at it and imagine playing the game, and that makes me happy. Doing this gives me almost the same pleasure as really playing, and that is because (or so I believe) looking at the screen makes me think of playing the game back then, and how awesome it was back then, while actually playing it again today just does not give the same satisfaction, a phenomenon probably caused by age.
I just wanted to mention that.
And yes, I do look at that screen quite a lot, especially when taking breaks from playing.

Two:
Movies. More specific: Action movies. I am so looking forward to "The Expendables", just because (judging from Rambo) I am somehow convinced it'll be a somehow old fashioned action movie. Old fashioned here means: The nineties. I still believe that the last really good action movie was made in 1995 and is called Die Hard With A Vengeance.
Today there's just too much CGI in action movies, and therefore too much over-the-top action. John McClane on a fighter wing? Tanks falling from the sky? Fuck you, CGI. Jason Bourne didn't need you. Remember Charlie's Angels? Ridiculous, entertaining and yet somehow believeable. Part 2 then featured CGI military vehicles falling from a bridge and had no story. Terminator Salvation? Disappointment. Smokin' Aces? Could have been good, if it only would have had interesting characters or at least an okay story. Same goes for the A-Team. Entertaining, but completely pointless.
And I tell you what, Mister Carnahan: If the real Hannibal Smith had ever made plans like that, the whole fucking Team would've died a long time ago.

I have to go and brood over my mohawk doubts now.

Replay Your Memories

This is a screenshot of Jagged Alliance 2, a game that came out in the spring of 1999; and the game that cost me my second university semester. I played it all day and all of the night.

I tried to go back to it every now and then, but really, at least after 2003 or so a 640x480 based game became completely unplayable.

A few weeks ago I found out that some nerds have programmed a modification for the game, making it a bit more up-to-date, i.e. implementing higher resolution etc., so of course I had to try that out - did a little digging in the old-computer-crap-box, downloaded the mod, et voilá, once again I am liberating Arulco from its dictator.

That's how it works I guess; I often find myself tempted to buy a WII, just to see the latest Mario Galaxy game, just because I always remember how much fun I had with Mario on the Super Nintendo a thousand years ago.

PS: For those who'd like to try it, the 1.13 mod for JA2 can be found here.

Box Office

Oh, the new Twilight movie is out. I guess I have to go and see it, because I secretly enjoy romantic movies aimed at teenagers. Except if they feature sparkly vampires. No, seriously, I watched part one and found it entertaining enough, but then I watched part two. That's the one where they introduce werewolves. If vampires weren't enough, or should I say, if vampires that have been stripped of all the downsides of being a vampire weren't enough, no, now we get werewolves, and they, too, don't need to worry about shit because they can change to and fro werewolf at will, no moon fear, no lust for human flesh, very convenient. Well, I guess I can accept even that, because what really ruined part two for me was the storyline, which goes like this:
Edward is like: Oh Bella, there's this evil leftover-from-part-one vampire woman who wants to kill you. You know what, I'm gonna leave you, so you're not in danger. I'm gonna go to Italy (!), but I will pop up in your imagination every now and then, especially if you act recklessly. So he does that, Bella starts something with this werewolf guy to tide herself over, and then later they steal a bit from Romeo and Juliet when Edward thinks Bella is dead and he wants to kill himself in sunny Italy, but Bella shows up and saves him, movie over.
I can't even even tell you how I excited I am about part three. What's it gonna be this time? Trolls? Harpies? No, I know: it's gonna be Zombies. In the middle of their bullshit romance Bella and Edward find out about some government conspiracy involving some manufactured virus that makes vampires sparkle and gives werewolves abs, but then Timothy Olyphant drops by and shoots the leftover-from-part-one-(again!)-vampire-woman with his two silver pistols seven times in the head, thereby apologizing for Hitman and Die Hard IV, then he shoots Bruce Willis who just happens to walk in, and says: I should have done that when I had the chance, fuckhead, John McLane will never save the whole fucking world you character traitor, and while Bella stares confusedly at the wall Edward gets his dick out and starts shoving it up werewolf boy's ass, saying: I've always wanted to do that; and werewolf boy says: Can someone open some windows please, I like him sparkling. So this Spiderman-reboot-Garfield-guy opens the windows, and that's when the Zombies attack. Only survivor: Werewolf boy's baby, which is born immediately after the bloodbath. It names itself Chuckie and starts her own franchise.

Fuck me, where have all the good movies gone.