The Adventures of Wolfgang Sven

Villa Littorio

If you haven’t been to Villa Littorio. Then you will never truly understand why I am who I am. 

Elite Gymnastics - Is This On Me?

A lot has been going on in the world since I left London. The riots and the US’s S&P downgrade. But in this quiet little town in the mountains of southern Italy, the only window to the world’s chaos, is the news site on your Safari browser. It truly is a place where you an get away from it all. Sure Italy is about to be the next Greece when it comes to debt crisis, but these small towns’ economies are mostly run within themselves. And if there were riots, they’d only last probably 30 minutes, because they’d have to take a smoke break. Like I’ve always said, if Obama screws up bad enough, or if World War III breaks out, I’m movin to Villa.

In this quiet town you don’t do much. Okay yeah I was lazy piece of ass sometimes in London, but really the only things to do here is eat, drink, and sleep. Oh yeah and play soccer, but I’m absolutely terrible and the kids here can bicycle kick by the age of 9. Most nights end up in the nearby town of Piaggine, where most of the other towns’ youth come to drink as well, at an American owned bar as a matter of fact. Well, the owner lived in New York for a while, but I’m pretty sure he was born here.

It’s very odd to meet outsiders here. When you walk down the streets you have to get used to everybody staring at you like projections from Inception. But unlike projections, the people are nowhere near as hostile. Maybe it is because most of the town is family (612 inhabitants, pretty much all cousins, uncles, aunts, etc.) but everybody is always excited to give you food, or drinks no matter if they’re related or not. Don’t expect the same kind of treatment in Rome, Naples or other big cities. Like all big cities, residents are required to walk around with a stick up their ass. As for other outsiders, I did meet some other Americans and somebody else from Holland. Which to me was kind of like when Marla Singer walked into The Narrator’s support groups in Fight Club. Yeah that sounds selfish and rude, but I don’t mean it in that kind of way. When other english speakers are around, I don’t learn much Italian. It is nice though to have people you can have an entire in-depth conversation with, so to those who I met one shady night in Piaggine, it really was a pleasure to meet you, and I’m glad there are other Americans who know that the rest of the world doesn’t live on SUV’s, McDonalds, and Wal-Mart.

Well, this will be another short entry and maybe one of my last for a while. I leave for the states this upcoming week, and a lot of my wit has been put into a screenplay rebooting a dark comedy written senior year of high school. As for those of you who enjoyed the music and creative writing (Oyster Card, Ari Gold, Circus Animals) on this blog, I may start up another focused more on just that. So lots of reblogging with music, videos, and music videos I find interesting, and the occasional work of my own.

This sounds like goodbye, and it could be, unless I put something up before my departure in the next couple of days. Next time I leave Arizona be sure to expect more. Or who knows? Maybe more adventures await back home?

Farewell London

It’s already been 5 weeks, and my time in the United Kingdom nears it’s end. London is a fantastic place to visit/live. It may be really expensive (no really, if you wanna go somewhere and come out with no money, don’t go to Vegas, go to London) but the energy and atmosphere is different from other cities. London will most definitely be missed, and I plan to return sometime in the future.

Today was not the original day for departure. I missed my flight Wednesday, and the only other flight to Rome was today. But my free Thursday yesterday gave me a chance to finally get all that touristy crap done; sightseeing, souvenirs, crying, etc. 

Has it been a week since I last posted something? Damn. I’m slackin. Well, highlights of the past week would have to be;

Singing karaoke in Westminster’s Sports Club. Boy do I feel bad for those that witnessed it. Ok maybe it wasn’t THAT bad, since the song was after all “Safety Dance”. All you gotta do is deepen your voice and give it a little British twang, and make sure to emphasize the “ooooo” in “You can dance if you wannoooooooo”. Couple drinks and shots of Goldschlager, or however the hell you spell that chick drink, helped take the embarrassment away, otherwise a voice crack might have snuck in there or somethin.

And that woulda been embarrassing.

Johnny Cash is still alive. Yeah, you read it right. No really. I saw him in the McDonald’s after Friday’s crawl. Service was slower than shit comin out of a(n) (insert noun here)’s ass. So in the meantime, while waiting for my chicken sandwiches, Johnny whipped out that geetar and serenaded the establishment with “Ring of Fire”. Was quite a show. Don’t believe me? Here’s proof.

Nah, actually just go on my Facebook London album. Too lazy and don’t got time.

Okay well there’s two highlights there. I really don’t remember much else that exciting. Most of my weekend just consisted of the Pub Crawl. 

WAIT!

If your ever in London and looking for some upcoming bands and a place for a good drink, well than look no further than Water Rats (pub) featuring The Curious Incident (band). The lead singer is a friend that I met on the staff of the crawl. Told me about his band’s show earlier in the month but I missed that due to work, but this Tuesday I was able to correct that past mistake.

Usually you know how it is;

Come check out my band!

Sounds awesome!

*not impressed*

Good show!………..(fake)

No, these guys were good. Check them out on Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/thecuriousincident

I was definitely impressed.

Well, it’s time to say goodbye, not to you, but to my many new friends and acquaintances, Camden, Westminster, London. My bags are sitting by the door packed, got my Gatwick express ticket in wallet, along with whatever Pounds I have left. 

And to London, I bid thee farewell.

Time to switch the passports and get out the Euros. Rome here I come.

Moby - Extreme Ways by phoenixdown

Jim Tressel vs Ari Gold

Two posts in two days!? You must be dreaming! No you’re not, so before you try using the force to levitate that phone a little closer or try flying off Tempe Towers. Don’t. But really, I’m the one who’s been dreaming, a very strange dream. So strange and worth blogging that I even wrote a script for it. Just a heads up this can be seen as an attempt to write for Entourage. Which maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But I figured it’d be the best way to illustrate the dream’s daft events.

    INT. TMA CONFERENCE ROOM

          All agents are sitting in conference room waiting for ARI

          GOLD’s next new big signing.

                              ARI GOLD

                    People! Please welcome, future

                    Canadian football legend, TERRELLE

                    PRYOR!

          All agents clap giving PRYOR a warm welcome. WOLFGANG

          doesn’t. Gives TERRELLE PRYOR a cold stare. Ari glances and

          notices this.

                              TERRELLE PRYOR

                    Thanks. Thank you.

                              ARI GOLD

                    Alright, people. What have we got

                    for Mr. Pryor

                              AGENT 1

                    Jersey Shore is looking for guest

                    stars in their third season.

                              ARI GOLD

                    Wow! No.

                              AGENT 2

                    Japanese-American football camp is

                    looking for a minor celebrity as an

                    endorser?

                              ARI GOLD

                         (cringes)

                    Minor!? I believe the word you were

                    looking for is Major! 

                              WOLFGANG

                         (mutters)

                    Coulda been major.

                              TERRELLE PRYOR

                         (looks in WOLFGANG’s

                         direction)

                              ARI GOLD

                         (notices)

                    Ok, next!

                              AGENT 3

                    Entourage is looking for guest

                    stars in it’s ninth season.

          ARI GOLD and TERRELLE PRYOR look at eachother. Then at AGENT

          3.

                              ARI GOLD

                    Series is over. Next.

                              WOLFGANG

                    New NFL team in Idaho is looking

                    for free agents. Oh wait, I forgot. They want

                    players who finished college.

                              ARI GOLD

                    NEXT!

                              TERRELLE PRYOR

                    Got somethin to say?

                              ARI GOLD

                    No, come on. Don’t worry about him,

                    he didn’t get enough attention as a

                    child.

                              WOLFGANG

                    Atleast I didn’t sell my diploma

                    for a Nissan!

                              TERRELLE PRYOR

                         (stands up)

                              ARI GOLD

                    OK! Get out! Now!(to TERRELLE) I’m

                    so sorry about this man-

                              WOLFGANG

                    What Ari!? Like this kid couldn’t

                    get enough money as a student?!

                              ARI GOLD

                    GET OUT NOW OR I WILL PERSONALLY

                    TAKE YOU OUT!

                              TERRELLE PRYOR

                    Oh I’d be pleased to do it myself.

                              WOLFGANG

                    Only person you should be taking

                    out is your date here! He’s got the

                    car! 350z right? One from Tokyo

                    Drift? He’s got the money! See what

                    you can get at Steak n Shake for a

                    pair of Golden Pants!

                              ARI GOLD

                         (grabs Wolfgang by the jacket,

                         starts walking him out of the

                         conference room)

                    Really!? In front of a client?!

                              WOLFGANG

                    He had his chance! He should be

                    blacklisted like the Mel Gibson of

                    football!

    EXT. TMA CONFERENCE ROOM

          ARI GOLD drags and pushes WOLFGANG into the elevator.

                              WOLFGANG

                    YOU WEREN’T SHIT AFTER FRESHMAN

                    YEAR!

          Elevator door closes.

                              ARI GOLD

                    I’m so sorry about that.

                              TERRELLE PRYOR

                    What kinda place you runnin here

                    Ari?

     INT. ELEVATOR

          Elevator lands at level one. Doors open, and standing

          waiting is JIM TRESSEL.

                              WOLFGANG

                    Heyyy! Mr. Tressel!

                              JIM TRESSEL

                    How is it going son? Which floor

                    can I find Ari?

                              WOLFGANG

                    Oh I’ll help you, I left my keys

                    upstairs anyways.

    EXT. TMA CONFERENCE ROOM

          TERRELLE PRYOR is waiting in front of the elevator.

                              ARI GOLD

                    Come on Terrelle we got plenty of

                    other ideas waitin for you! How

                    would you like to be in the next DC

                    Comics movie! Huh!? One phone call and

                    this time the Green Lantern will

                    actually be black!

          Elevator arrives. Doors open.

                              TERRELLE PRYOR

                    Coach?

                              JIM TRESSEL

                    Ari!

                              WOLFGANG

                    Oh this making you uncomfortable

                    Terrelle? You know if it weren’t

                    for YOU THIS MAN WOULDN’T BE LOOKING FOR ANOTHER JOB!

                              ARI GOLD

                    You Buckeye piece of shit! (punches

                    WOLFGANG)

                              JIM TRESSEL

                    Buckeye what?

                              ARI GOLD

                    Sorry Jim I-

                             JIM TRESSEL

                         (punches Ari in face)

                              ARI GOLD

                         (K.O.)

          THE END

Weird dream. Now you know how it is remembering dreams, so basically the plot line was the same just the dialogue needed some refreshing. Critics (one friend) say that they couldn’t imagine Ari Gold punching someone, which yes I agree, would be weird and out of character. But if you remember Ari’s prank war with Adam Davies in season 4 or 5, you will recall a ‘bitch slap’ given by Mr. Gold. And with the stress Ari had gone through in season 7 I imagine there would possibly be enough for him to crack. And if you don’t watch Entourage then you’re probably really confused, so catch it on HBO Sunday night July 24th to watch the premiere of it’s 8th and final season.

As for the Ohio State side, I love Jim Tressel. It’s that Terrelle who pisses me off. So I think my subconscious hate for the fact that Pryor ended the career of one of Ohio State’s greatest coaches, is what seeped into my sleep. 

…..but still, it was just a dream. Hope you enjoyed it.

Oh and Doug Ellin, if you’re currently reading this, have you know I am currently unemployed (besides this internship).

GO BUCKEYES!

A Real Entry For Once

What my iPod makes me wanna do every morning on the subway. ^

So I’m sorry about that last blog. I really haven’t had too many memories that stick to my brain but this time I’ll try to dish out as much as I can scrape off my brain. OMG I really gotta piss, brb……

K, I’m back. Ok so what you may not know if I haven’t talked to you on facebook recently is that I been taking pictures for the local Camden Pub Crawl. It’s pretty sick, they pay me a bit (which inevitably gets spent on drinks) to take pictures with my Canon T1i (for all those of you who know cameras (yeah it’s not a f***in Mark III but calm the f*** down you -)) and I don’t have to pay for cover charge either. Last Saturday the only pounds to come out of my pocket was for a fish burger at the local….idk food place (might be Al-Qaeda linked, but that’d be racist, so this whole parenthesis is off the record). ANYWAYS, yeah, I been meeting a lot of people on those crawls. I have to say my drinking tolerance has built up quite a bit from these, maybe it’s my food preparation I take before each crawl, or all the walking we do but 8 shots and 4 pints isn’t that intoxicating anymore. But before I sound like some frat boy braggin about non-life-applicable drinking tolerance, I better get back to where I am.

London. Is awesome. Ok yeah I haven’t done that much exploring outside of work and Camden, but just something about this place (and Europe in general) is so……chill. Idk, the lifestyle is very stress free. Maybe it’s cuz I’m on kind-of-vacation, but I could definitely live here. Beats the hell out of Arizona. Don’t worry, I’m talkin bout the state and it’s shitty ass location in the middle of noshitwhere, not my peeps livin there! The downside is definitely not havin my much missed Tukee-Tempe-Tucson partiers. If I could take my people and party across Europe we could all crash on the plane back, and I would die a happy college student (yeah it’s a little morbid but really you’re gonna forget about it within 30 min. So calm down dammit). It’ll probably have to do with that fish burger shop (sorry, I had to say it, it was too good to pass up. OFF RECORD of course!). 

How bout these Republicans and Obama tryin to come up with budget cuts?….Don’t care? Yeah neither do I. K maybe I do. Enough to bring it up. But not enough to continue.

K. I know this blog is about my vacation and so far all I’ve done is made myself a target for NSA. But I really can not think of anything else to share. My weekdays really just consist of, wake up, intern, facebook, bitch at Blizzard to unban my World of Warcraft account (yes, I am in London and dealing with Blizzard customer support (DON’T JUDGE ME LADIES!! A MAN NEEDS SOME ALTERNATE REALITY EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE!!!)) go to sleep. Then I repeat it all the next day. Until the weekend where I snap pictures of drunk people. Check my facebook wall to see them (if you don’t how to see it well then I don’t know how the f*** you’re reading this blog right now….unless…..you’re NSA! I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN’T SAY SHIT!!)

End of transmission……..bom bom bow bow bududum bom bow bow.

Guess the song and I swear to Corn Flakes I’ll give you my box of Corn Flakes (which really does mean a lot to me) Not the song above, talkin about the bom bom bow bow.

Week 2 Complete

Another week, and more money down the tube. And that’s partially literal:

(walking into the tube station)

(swipes Oyster card)

(light turnnnsss GREE- red.)

Me: F**K!

What’s an Oyster card? Does exactly what you’re thinking, helps me pay in oysters. How do you do that with a card? Well it’s easy, there’s this bank of oysters called, Bank of Oysters, where instead of gold and cash in a vault they keep, oysters. Now when I swipe my oyster card at the tube station, the BoO sends London’s underground the demanded amount of oysters. Why not money? Why in the hell would they want money when they have oysters! Ok, you probably didn’t know this but what does the underground run on? Electrici- WRONG! Oysters. How does tha- LET ME FINISH! You see, while Santa is on holiday-yes, Santa Claus-which is pretty much all year, besides his December recess, Santa takes a job driving the tube around London. It pays decent, puts food on the table. But those are the checks coming from the Department of Transport (or does it? Idk how these socialists work) but what most don’t know is that before Santa was slangin gifts across the globe, he was the no. 1 most wanted by the FBI for illegal OYSTER trafficking. In the underground rail system Santa actually takes the reigns of bio-genetically engineered oysters that are capable of pulling the weight of….a lot of weight. Underneath the rails, theres an underground river system that is home and channel to the speeding oysters. It kinda looks like this;

How do I know all this? I work for Parliament, duh. We get all these letters from animal rights activists demanding the British government to hand over Santa Claus and shut down his oyster trafficking ring. But seeing as there is no real evidence that the animal rights activists can bring forth to a court of law the government still denies any allegations since it is after all…

fake. 

Or is it?

And yes Santa wears night vision in the tunnel, and has no beard. Why not? CUZ HE’S WORKING! DUH! That’s why he grows it out for Christmas. Sheesh, you’re just so behind.

I was gonna talk about this week but I’ll get to that some other time. I’m tired out from the week and the oysters have gotten the best of me (they telepathically suck sleep from the passengers in the train).

FREE THE OYSTERS!

Week 1 Complete

Correspondence, correspondence, correspondence. So many letters! I wasn’t really feeling like blogging at this moment, but I have nothing else to do but blow snot into tissues. Yes, I have a cold. Like any other long term vacation, once again, I am sick.

Ah, so what did I do this week? Not much really. Wake up. Go to work. Type. Type. Type. Type. Lunch. Type. Type. Type. Type. Afternoon tea. Type. Type. Go home. Facebook. Sleep. Now just multiply that by 3 and you got my week.

BUT! Yesterday was slightly different with the protest and all. And the pints after work made a week’s hard work pay off. My colleague got me pretty much a pint for each days work. And I was kind enough use my hard-earned mythical G’s to buy us a round as well. 

Let me just say though, the last thing a bunch of politicians and interns need, is a pub in Parliament. Doesn’t debating already get loud enough? No apparently not. But the subjects are interesting when you hear them from a fellow earth dweller. Here’s a little bit from last night:

Intern 1: (debating about, I don’t know what)

Intern 2: (debating about, knowing what I don’t)

Intern 1: (debating)

Intern 2: (debating)

Intern 1: (debating)

Intern 2: (debating)

Intern 1: (debating)

Intern 2: (debating)

Me: …….have you seen Spiderman 2?

(silence)

BECAUSE! If you require visual assistance for these characters you’re probably imagining Bilbo Baggins as Intern 1, Vincent van Gogh as Intern 2, and Danny Ocean as Me….(yes, George Clooney, as myself).

When really it was more along the lines of:

Intern 1 looked like this…

Intern 2 was more…

And I was like…

If you were there you would have seen the resemblance. And actually if I were you, I’d make sure to keep the mech. arms, pirate bandana, and fake stache in the visuals. Cuz it really livens the scene since I had no idea what they were talking about. Like I said, film major…surrounded by politicals.

So what else is there to talk about? I don’t know really. This cold must be lagging the connection between my right brain and fingers. And it really does feel like my brain’s right side is imploding and coming out my nose every time I use a tissue. My ear hasn’t been able to pop in forever.

And that’s a long time.

Alright I’m off for now. More adventures to come soon, hopefully. It’s the weekend!

Circus Animals

Began the internship today, after getting a healthy one hour of sleep! It’s a long story. Actually it’s not. I’m just not gonna explain it cuz it’s not important. But thanks to being the third person on the shower I officially had the coldest shower of my life! Blue extremities cannot be healthy to start off a morning, and I’m not just talking arms and legs…

Circus animals? Yeah! Circus animals! I’m just gonna let you think about that for a while…

…k it’s really not worth the suspense.

After triumphantly managing my way through the underground railways of London, and wandering around to find out where the hell I exactly enter Parliament, I arrived at the offices of my MP. By offices I mean two rooms comparable to the size of my rinky dink Mesa apartment living room. Ok, maybe they weren’t THAT small. 

Suspense is killing you isn’t it?

What’s my job? (You like how I ask questions for you? I write like I’m interviewing myself, makes me feel famous) in Britain they have constituencies, like states in the US you could say. “Basically” (-Ms. Doyle), constituents (people living there) send in letters to the Member of Parliament (MP), with whatever nags, or complaints, or opinions, or invitations, or frog legs they need answered. Scratch the frog legs. Actually, no. Keep them there. That might come in later. I and my colleague James receive those letters and decide whether or not they fall under my MP’s expertise (which is mostly economics and business stuff like that). If they’re something different, we tell the constituent to f*** off and get a job. Just kidding. ANYWAYS, instead of telling them to f*** off, we send a letter back to them saying we will ask the Secretary of State of Whatever. We call this a hold. Then we send a letter to the SoSoW asking them to regard this constituent’s concerns. This is called a pass. So for example:

The time has arrived!

The first letter I read was from a constituent regarding wild ANIMALS being banned from the CIRCUS due to animal rights violations. In response we sent a hold letter stating we have forwarded their concerns to the Secretary of State regarding Animal Health (or something like that). Then we sent a pass letter to SoSrAH(oslt). Once a reply is received we send that back to the constituent.

Austria just recently banned the use of wild animals in circuses. That’s why it’s a hotter topic now in the UK. Just fyi. Thank me later.

Now there’s a lot more other kinds of letters but I’m not giving you a frickin pokédex of all those. Come out here yourself if you’re that curious.

As for that pub crawl Saturday night let me just say that they never disappoint. Even if you’re a total loner you can still find a group of Aussies to show you a good time. Some memories from that night:

Frenchy

Me: Parlez vous francais?

Frenchy: Oui

Me: Je dois practicer

Frenchy: Yeah you do

Chug, Chug, Chug

Me: I’ll take another pint

Bartender: (fills pint)

Me: Thank you

Pub Crawl Guide: We’re off to the next pub! (looks at Me) FINISH YOUR DRINK!!!

Me: (looks at Guide) (looks at pint) (chugging commences)

Pub Crawl Guide: CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!

Me: (chugging)

Guide and rest of Pub: CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!

Me: (holding back puke) (still chugging)

Guide and rest of Pub: CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!

Me: (finish) (still not puking) (stomach not feeling right)

Pub: (cheers)

Sexy Fine Bitches: (place Olympic medal around Me’s neck)

Paparazzi: (snaps away)

…….k those last two lines didn’t happen.

Vulfgahng

Austrian: What’s your name?

Me: Wolfgang

Austrian: No you say it, Vvvvvvuuuuullllfgahng!

Me: Vvvvvvuuuuullllfgahng.

Austrian: No! VVVVVVVuuuuullllfgahng!

Me: VVVVVVVuuuuullllfgahng!

Austrian: VVVVVVVUUULLLLLFFFFFGAAAANGGGG!!!

Me: VVVVVVVUUULLLLLFFFFFGAAAANGGGG!!!

(5 turns later)

Austrian: VVVVVVVUUULLLLLFFFFFGAAAANGGGG!!!

Me: VVVVVVVUUULLLLLFFFFFGAAAANGGGG!!!

Austrian: There you go.

Congratulations! You’ve made it through the whole post! You must really be bored. Feel free to think WTF on any of the sentences found in this blog.

I’m off now. All this googling as left me wishing for a pet tiger. You know you want one.