so it begins...

air canada is the worst airline i've every flown from vancouver to london (with a stopover in montreal). The seats were too small and the food was terrible and not nearly enough.

I hate flying to begin with (although, i do enjoy using the bathroom on the airplane and imagining myself with my feet planted 35 000 feet above the ground, peeing on the pathetic surface dwellers), but it is even worse when the retard infront of you is banging his head into the back of his chair, shaking my tv screen and making it impossible for me to watch The Men Who Stare at Goats without getting horrible motion sickness.

England is so weird: they drive weird brands of cars that i've never heard of, live in really tall and narrow houses, require identification to do anything, have a fairly dangerous subway system that they have given a silly name, and are having elections even though they are living under the thumb of the dark, beautiful, and terrible queen elizabeth. I don't pretend to understand.

I was scared of getting beaten up by chavs, but an english guy i work with told me they'd all be in south africa for the world cup, which calmed me down until i realised that just the idiots with enough money to be able to go to south africa and buy tickets to games would be there, which means that only the concentrated worst remain. I don't know if i should be frightened, but they certainly sound angry when they talk. i am kind of worried that i will pick up their accent or expressions and sound like everything i hate when i get home, but i'm not here for too long so i might escape with my vocabulary not-retarded.

my friend who i am staying with's roommate is the nicest guy i could hope for and has fed me a bowl of England's national dish, Musli, and has offered to show me around london. I think I want to see london bridge, that big ferris wheel, sherlock holmes's office, and the eiffel tower, if there is time.

i am sorry there are no pictures, but i just had an 11 hour flight and took a frightening subway ride through london so give me a fucking break, ok? I will try to take some good ones for tomorrow.

If I Die, Please Delete My Facebook

I'm leaving to begin my campaign to liberate Europe on thursday the 29th of April at 10:55am.

My plan is to arrive in London on the morning of the 30th, fly to Morocco on the morning of the 2nd, then make my way north overland until I reach Ceuta on the 20th, I will then take Spain by surprise, spending 5 days securing the south before I reach Barcelona for Primavera Sound , and then, illogically, to Dublin for five days(to fool fascist spies), then to Budapest, Berlin, then back to London and home.



I am not certain how much actual military service I'll be doing, as most of what I know about Europe comes from watching the history channel, but I am prepared to overthrow tyrant monarchs, crush proud fascists, and push back the evil forces of communism all the way to just east of Budapest, because that is as far as I am budgeted for. I will do whatever is necessary to end the occupation of Europe and bring freedom and democracy to the oppressed peasants of the land.

I'm packing pretty light, I am not really sure what horrors await me, but I'm sure I'll be able to get by safely.

Unless I don't. I could die in so many terrible ways, I could even be dead before I get there if it turns out that they didn't resume flights across the Atlantic because it was safe, but only because the airlines decided they'd rather risk human lives than lose money, I could be killed in London by a pack of hungry chavs or bemistaken for a southern poof by a northern coal miner or cell-phone salesman. It's too awful to think about. But if I do die, please, for the love of god, delete my facebook. I don't want to end up on the news as having my facebook "turned into a shrine" or anything weird like that. Thank you and god bless.

I will do my very best to keep you updated and with pictures from this strange and barbaric land.