THIS POST IS ABOUT THE TIME I WENT TO CROATIA, AND ALSO HUNGARY
Tuesday, October 20th, 2009
LOL I took a picture of a sunset with an instant camera, someone put me out of my misery
Oh my God y’all it’s been too long.
Blogging just runs in my blood, you feel me, and spending this much time away from the game is like being trampled by a horse who instead of having hooves has swords as feet. I bet most of you thought I was off doing some super-secret government shit, like converting the entire U.S. cabinet to Muslimry or murdering white babies for use in consommés, but the real deal is this: I went to Croatia, and then to Hungary, and then I spent three weeks living with my parents just illing.
Croatia! Have you ever been? Don’t tell anyone but it is awesome. It is sort of a secret, since everyone assumes that it is filled with murderous Slavs of various difficult-to-discern identities, like maybe Russia, but with more guns and unexploded mines. Well: everyone who assumes that is wrong (by the way, British people, I know you know about Croatia, and do you know why I know? Because there are literally thousands of you, pale and drunk, scattered across the coast, making Americans look like models of respect and restraint). Croatia, it turns out, is basically Italy, but without any boring culture that your Lonely Planet guide guilts you into seeing. Actually, it is more beautiful than Italy, because there are slightly fewer of those guys selling the weird dancing paper Mickey Mouse toys, and also because you can basically just give up pretending to speak in Italian because you took Spanish 201 in college. Seriously, guys, this place is like whoa.
I mean, people are all like, “Balearic music! Balearic islands!” or whatever, which is cool, I’m sure, except that this is like: Balearic squared. This is like, when you listen to Smith & Mudd, and you’re like, what does this remind me of, well, it reminds you of Croatia.
Budapest is not really anything like Croatia. Really what it is like is Paris, except not as loud, or large, and everyone speaks Hungarian, which is a hilarious made-up language with—I’m not joking here—three different versions of the letter “O.” I could tell you about the beautiful things I saw, or all the gyros I ate, except really the absolute and unquestionable highlight of my week there–of my whole trip–was the stuffed goose neck I ate at this little Jewish-Hungarian restaurant called Fülemüle. This is what it tasted like: damn.
So then I got home, and I was all, “I’m gonna get back to posting, cause my fans missed me,” and then instead I figured I would sit around and feel sorry for my underemployed self, which has worked out pretty well so far.
Anyway, the takeaway is this:
1) I’m looking for work (LOL, kill me), so if you know anyone who needs some writing done, email me: max@discohorror.com. I will literally write about anything, for money, so, you know. Please.
2) Or, Jesus, even a retail job, admin work, rentboy, whatever, in New York City. Bonus if you know about two jobs–I’m not the only unemployed person in my apartment (know any art world jobs? Design-y type things?).
3) Croatia is bad-ass. Budapest is ridiculous. We have a bunch of photos up here.
5) I have a ton of shit to give you over the next few days–including a track from a CD by an artist whose name rhymes with “Pindstrøm and Pristabelle”–but for now I’m just gonna leave you with a little Croatian ditty called “Vilo Moja” (pronounced “VEE-lo MOY-a”) by a group called Crikvenica (pronounced, um, with noises). This is an example of “Klapa” singing, where a bunch of Croatian dudes get together and get drunk and sing harmonies with each other while they play a mandolin, and I spent three hours one day listening to songs like this at a bar where this was the view:
LOL I took a picture of beer with my iPhone seriously someone kill me
