"I can't help feeling that I didn't drink enough."
Well, all good things come to an end. As I prepare to leave I have mixed feelings. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be readier to return, but think about what I'm leaving. I'm abandoning two of my loves. Beer and bitches. First of all, the beer here was remarkable. We can thank no preserveatives for that. So tasty, and cheap. *sigh* It's really breaking my heart to leave such an awesome collection of beverages. I can't help feeling that I didn't drink enough. And then there's the bitches. Hundreds of thousands of fine ladies. Where am I going? Ruston...fuck. They won't know I miss them so.
Now that I'm done lamenting, it's time to get down to business. Tomorow this time I'll be off the coast of the UK, heading home. From gear up in Amsterdam to touch down in Monroe is 13hours and 1minute, projected. That's not counting time I'm at Schipol before takeoff and all the time at Monroe before heading home.
Now for that smuggling situation. I've decided not to bring the Jager home...this time. Instead, I'm sneaking a 75cL bottle of my favorite Belgian beer. It's called Westmalle Tripel (as in triple), and it's 9.5% alc. =) The plan is to have it in my backpack the way to Houston, because that's legal. However, at the first security checkpoint it becomes illegal on US soil. So....I actually have to goto baggage claim in Houston, that's where I make the switch. I sneak it into my suitcase, then put it back on the belt. Two things could make this plan go south. One, customs does a search of my suitcase. I've come up with a pseudo solution to this. I wrapped some of the glasses I'm bringing home just like the bottle, so they look identical. The only difference is weight. Tricky. The other problem is less legal. Cargo bays typically aren't pressurized, therefore there is a chance if the seal on the bottle isn't good it make leak. I'm willing to take that chance.
So enough about leaving. Friday night my dad and I went out. First we went to, what we call, "the beer store." It could go by no other name. It's a small shop, but almost every sq. in of the walls are covered in beer. Individual bottles from all over the world. Around 950 beers...yeah, awesome. I flipped out. After making some purchases (and we went back again today...it's that awesome), we decieded to hit my dad's favorite pub. It's called "In de Wilderman," and they have 18 beers on tap. ...We tried several of them, some of them a couple times... Then we proceeded to catch a tram and meet my mother for dinner. We were drunk, to say the least. It was pretty funny, at least for me.
Here I am, drinking one of my last fine beers for a couple months. It's kinda of like how if you knew you were going to die you'd appriciate life more...except with beer. I almost made a habit out of not drinking anything that isn't 8.5% alc or higher. Saves money.
About the blog. I'll probably change the url when I get back, something like kellen.blogspot, or mynameiskellen, or perhaps askeetskeetskeet. Something around those lines. I'll post it on facebook, under my webpages. That way those who care can look, those who dont can go fuck themselves.
I miss the American culture, but despite what I thought when I first came here, I could live here. However, I dont think I could move back in at home.
So there you have it, a month. Hopefully I'll see alot of you tomorow, if I dont, chance are I didn't want to see your ass anyway. I should be back in Ruston around 9pm. I may be in a good mood, I may be beat, I may be well on my way to drunk, who knows, I'm Kellen bitches!
Now that I'm done lamenting, it's time to get down to business. Tomorow this time I'll be off the coast of the UK, heading home. From gear up in Amsterdam to touch down in Monroe is 13hours and 1minute, projected. That's not counting time I'm at Schipol before takeoff and all the time at Monroe before heading home.
Now for that smuggling situation. I've decided not to bring the Jager home...this time. Instead, I'm sneaking a 75cL bottle of my favorite Belgian beer. It's called Westmalle Tripel (as in triple), and it's 9.5% alc. =) The plan is to have it in my backpack the way to Houston, because that's legal. However, at the first security checkpoint it becomes illegal on US soil. So....I actually have to goto baggage claim in Houston, that's where I make the switch. I sneak it into my suitcase, then put it back on the belt. Two things could make this plan go south. One, customs does a search of my suitcase. I've come up with a pseudo solution to this. I wrapped some of the glasses I'm bringing home just like the bottle, so they look identical. The only difference is weight. Tricky. The other problem is less legal. Cargo bays typically aren't pressurized, therefore there is a chance if the seal on the bottle isn't good it make leak. I'm willing to take that chance.
So enough about leaving. Friday night my dad and I went out. First we went to, what we call, "the beer store." It could go by no other name. It's a small shop, but almost every sq. in of the walls are covered in beer. Individual bottles from all over the world. Around 950 beers...yeah, awesome. I flipped out. After making some purchases (and we went back again today...it's that awesome), we decieded to hit my dad's favorite pub. It's called "In de Wilderman," and they have 18 beers on tap. ...We tried several of them, some of them a couple times... Then we proceeded to catch a tram and meet my mother for dinner. We were drunk, to say the least. It was pretty funny, at least for me.
Here I am, drinking one of my last fine beers for a couple months. It's kinda of like how if you knew you were going to die you'd appriciate life more...except with beer. I almost made a habit out of not drinking anything that isn't 8.5% alc or higher. Saves money.
About the blog. I'll probably change the url when I get back, something like kellen.blogspot, or mynameiskellen, or perhaps askeetskeetskeet. Something around those lines. I'll post it on facebook, under my webpages. That way those who care can look, those who dont can go fuck themselves.
I miss the American culture, but despite what I thought when I first came here, I could live here. However, I dont think I could move back in at home.
So there you have it, a month. Hopefully I'll see alot of you tomorow, if I dont, chance are I didn't want to see your ass anyway. I should be back in Ruston around 9pm. I may be in a good mood, I may be beat, I may be well on my way to drunk, who knows, I'm Kellen bitches!
posted by K E L L E N at 3:45 PM
5 Comments:
chase and i decided that your blogspot thing shoud be kellen in america. and you can change it everytime you go somewhere. well, we can't wait to see you; neither can oscar. he's been living there since you left!
What Erin forgot to tell you is that Oscar is not a stray cat adopted by Jason. No, no. Oscar is this grouchy homeless man, that Jason has fallen in love with. He's pretty funny when he's drunk, but now everything in your house smells like bad cabbage.
It's weird. He is in fact looking forward to seeing you though. Oscar's cool like that.
Incindentally Kellen in America wouldn't be a horrible name, but I personally prefer, askeetskeetskeet or imkellenbitches I'm just sayin.
Ah man, Kel. You are by far my favorite person. I read all of your blogs so I think you should know that I've caught on to you and your raging alcoholism. Oh well, it serves entertaining none-the-less. I have to say that I missed you more than anything while you were gone.
But shh, don't tell anyone.
Alright, I'm out of what to say. Call me at work or just text me, it'll be cool.
I love you (there, now you have it in writing...)
Justine
Where oh where has my little Kellen gone? Bring us new posts. Immediately.
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