The (Mis)Adventures of Matt Lyon

Springtime

2007-06-03T17:45:00.001-07:00

I am so fucking sick of living with 5 girls. Most of whom are just self-absorbed drama queens who love to cry almost as much as they love America's Next Top Model. I'm not sure which is worse. Watching girls cry, or watching girls watching girls cry.

I need testosterone. I need my friends. I have mostly well-wishers, in that they don't wish me any specific harm. Yet.

I need to not feel pressured to keep dumb conversations about who the fuck knows. I need to get outside of downtown.

I need to get blackout drunk on Big Sleaze concoctions.

Well, my wishes will come true. I'm making a trip down South and the end of June. June 22-July 2 to be exact. And not a moment to soon. I've seen every episode of Sex and the City. Every fucking one of them.

For your consideration.

2007-02-13T08:21:00.000-08:00

Alrighty boys and toys. The time has come to let you in on a little secret. Papa Bear's back in the States. That's right. Holed-up in Madison, Wisconsin of all places. The frozen tundra, the Badger State, America's Dairyland, the Cheesehead State, the land of milk and....well, more fucking milk. What brings a world traveller like myself to such humble abodes as this, you might ask? Well, if any of you know me, then you fear me. And if you fear me, then you respect me. And if you respect me, then you venerate me. And if you know what venerate means, then you're probably not one of my friends because most of my friends are soulless, toothless hicks. If you're one of the few that have passed through my filter of continence unscathed, then you have passed a mighty test indeed.

Welcome True Friend. From now on, I'll just call you Thomas Friedman to keep your anonymity and sanctity intact. So, Thomas Friedman, you're curious about why I moved to Madison, eh? Well, Thomas Friedman, let me tell you a little story about Big Boy Lion and Big Girl Fox. One day in the Forest, or the Bush, or the Savannah, or wherever the hell lions and foxes live in harmony with each other. Wait, lions hunt foxes? Fuck. Lets just pretend for one goddamned minute that one doesn't live in fear of the other so I can get through this horribly-structured parable about how lions and foxes are really in love with each other and they left the Outback to try to live in peace and harmony in Madison, Wisconsin and go to school and earn a little bit of money and help people with developmental disabilities and party with college kids and go to concerts and eat a whole lotta no meat and lay in bed all weekend watching Deepak Chopra DVDs, but mostly just every single goddamned episode of Sex and the City. Oh, I guess I just did. Damnit. I guess I don't have to talk down to you, Thomas Friedman. You understand in perfect English what's going on. You're great. You really are a True Friend. Kinda like Carrie (sane one) and Samantha (the slutty one) and Miranda (the cynical one) and Charlotte (the crazy one) are true friends. Gosh, Thomas Friedman, if you and I were on Sex and the City, who would we be? Wait, I know! I'd be Miranda because I'm always so self-conscious about my body and eager to let people in, but so angry when it doesn't work out, and you'd be Carrie, not because you're sane, Thomas Friedman, but because Carrie and Miranda are best friends! True friends, you might even say. And that's us, Thomas Friedman, True Friends! Ok, now if you were a guy on Sex and the City, who would you be? I know what you're thinking, you'd be Big. No way, Thomas Friedman! While you have the looks and the debonair of that macho studcake, you'd have the sensitivty to introduce me to your mother at Church and you'd never marry some bimbo you met in Paris and then sleep around on her with me. No, you'd definitely be Aiden! You have the suave and silk of Big, but the down-home country good looks and morals of Jerry Falwell. I think I'd be Steve because I'm some kinda adorable and good-natured with just the right pinch of a wild hair mixed in with bookishness that appeals to someone like Miranda. And then we, Aiden and Steve, can date other, more attractive women than Carrie and Miranda and open up a bar together and be together forever! Oh, Thomas Friedman, won't it be grand!!??!!

As you can see, I have big plans for us, Thomas Friedman. But in the meantime, I'm up here in Madison with Meghan learning about all kinds of things. Like how girls work. And what to do when 5 girls are watching Bad Girls Club.

Hint: rhymes with "Snow in your boom and salivate."

After my lessons are finished, I'll be leaving the allegorical cave, or in this case a den (10 comprehensive reading points for why) and making a pilgrimmage down south to share my lessons with any and all who care to listen/trapped on balcony of the apartments while I'm telling someone else. Alumni weekend. be there or be scared.

In the meantime, here's a video that is of the utmost importance and urgency for those without the giggles.

A Day of Infamy.

2007-01-14T21:36:00.000-08:00

Ok, this is something that has really been pissing me off lately. My counterparts Irving Longface and SHC Barrel have really been slacking as of late. To the point of a violent rage on yours truly. Firstly, the Barrel has been inactive since September 1st. That's basically August. Which is two, almost three seasons ago. And the last entry was about Paul fucking Walker??? No offence to TJoe for making the entry, but this was supposed to be a fluffer piece. A feel-good filler article during a slow news day. And this hack's mug is front row center to my daily wanderings in the virtual world. C'mon Hummer. Stand up or sit down. Quit squatting over the Barrel.

Number 2. Irving Longface makes me wanna. He deletes all the priceless comments from his blog, including the legendary 'Nigger' marathon. Now, one could see this as Mr. Face is trying to clean up his act for the med school goons he'll soon be taking it from. But now, without even so much as a Good Night and Good Luck he's thrown his whole blogging livelihood out the window and let the net sharks replace it for a web search for "county jail". Now I'm sure Irving has nothing to do with a county jail. Or maybe he does. Either way, his legacy will that of shame and cowardice.

Own up you maggots.

Yup.

2006-12-21T18:18:00.000-08:00

So its 245 in the mornign the night before I leavce the czech republic.. I’m leaveing a completely different life for the one im about to embark on. Its going to be a strange transistion. I just have to remember that its no more strange than moving to the Czech republic alone. But the psychology involved is sometimes overwhelming.

What im goin got miss about the Czech republic

The beer
The bear
The ease of trams
The metros
The international trains
The z card
The domestic trains
The people on the trains
The women on the trains at 10 in the morning
The baby carriages
The random absurd art
The small village that looks like every other one
The 60kc daily menu
The 25kc beer
Delvita
Baggin your own groceries
Putting 10kc coins to get a cart
Riding the tram one stop for free
530 wake up alarms
spending the majority of the day driving
falling asleep in Prague and waking up in a different time and a different world
playing for kids
doing the magic
digging in kids’ ears
shoving 10 year old children around with a fake plastic gun pretending to be a government agent in search of aliens
being the alien
being the ‘evil brother’ Stephen
rolling a cigarette on stage
making out with air on stage
being hard
interacting with Czech kids
talking to them in Czech
leading them towards understanding
hoping to make a connection
maybe making a random connection that I will never know about 
playing in nice theaters
playing good shows
a nice meal after shows
driving through Moravia in the fall
driving down a tree lined road in the fall
commuting for work
working my ass off for bullshit language agencies
buying the homeless magazine
showing a ticket controller my pass in confidence
buggering off for a weekend in a different country
paying 300kc to travel by train all the way across the country
the eye candy
trying to speak Czech
skiing in the mountains for 150kc
random vacationing skiing for less than 2000kc
rolling and smoking a joint in a nice bar
ease of experiencing art
ease of having a random experience
Czechtek
Waking up and not knowing exactly to expect
Pim’s cookies
Ease of seeing manmade beauty
Ease of hearing poetry or music
Genuine people experiencing life
Amazing churches within a walking distance from anywhere
Cheap food
Cheap rent
Sense of renewal constantly
Open frontiers
Open possibilities
More freedom
More ease
Less stress
Less pressure
More isolated
More unaffected
Less frustrated
More extroverted
Less self conscious
More self conscious

Welcome to the Land of Magyar (Pt 2)

2006-12-02T05:13:00.001-08:00

So the last night we were in town, I went out with some of the students and some of their friends. We went to the bar I'd met them at the night before and I basically stood at the bar for 10 minutes getting a couple of beers in me quick. One social courtesy that I've let go of over here is alcohol etiquette. No one cares if you have a beer or two at lunch. Its no problem to drink with 16 year olds. Which I did a lot of that night. And they drank me under the table. After catching up, they took me to a music club that actually played some of the best music I've encountered going to a random bar. A good mix of American rock classics and Hungarian hits. Some of the tunes spun included "Smells like Teen Spirit", "Intergalactic Planetary", "Killing In the Name Of", and "Du Hast". Rockin time to drink til you slobber and dance til you fall down. I bought some Hungarian cigarettes and Lord almighty what horrible creations those things are. Even when its 2 in the morning you take one drag and stuff it out. Foul junk. But smoked a joint with a couple of the kids and had to fend off one of the girls who was drunk and drunk. Sorry boys, this stud is nailed! Meeeeowwww!

I remember walking home and thinking and coming to some sort of conclusion about some meandering that I had and wanting to remember it and saying it out loud so that I could conjure it up the next day. But alas, I need to be bugged 24/7-for the Scrapbook!

I woke up at 6.30 and hastily and clumsily packed my bag and made my way to the car. David and Lenka were waiting for me. I told David the day before that I would drive the first 4 hours to Budapest, but he took one whiff of me and knew he'd be driving the whole way. I immediately passed out in the backseat and woke up 2 seconds later in Budapest. After watching David drive around in circles for a half hour, he finally dropped me off at Keleti Pu Train Station where I took a train to Eger. It was a bit of a rough ride. One of those feelings of feeling sick from the alcohol, expounded by the fact that youre traveling on your own in a foreign country with no idea where you're going and where you will sleep that night. But as I slept off the last remenants of the Grosser my outlook began to improve. I got off the train in Eger, not really noticing anything special. I was immediately approached by a little old lady named Kami, I think. She offered me a room in her house for 3000 Forints (12 USD)a night. I was hoping and half-expecting this to happen. I immediately accepted and we headed in the direction of her flat. Along the way she practiced her English by telling me about her son (who of course I remind her of) who is in University and will grow up to do great things, no doubt in her mind. As we are walking, I'm looking for signs that tell me I've come to town worth coming to. My guide for this trip was an Eastern Europe Lonely Planet from 1990 that I picked up in the Book Nook for 50 cents. The place seemed like nothing special.

We arrived at her flat and she told me the school adjacent was the one she was principal of for 30 years after teaching there for the 10 years previous. Wow. She knows this square kilometer better than anybody else, I bet. She showed me to my room and I was so pleasantly surprised to see it. Such a nice guest room with two beds, a television, a few couches and bathroom connecting to the main hallway. She sat me down and went over some tourist brochures, train and bus schedules, and a small history book of the town. After seeing some of the pictures, I was eager to go out and explore. I paid her for the first night and showered up and left to venture into the city.

Equipped with a small map and one of the brochures, I tried to make my way to the center. Seeing a signpost with numerous directional arrows, I stopped to read it. I was picked up by a middle aged Brit who was friendly enough to show me into town. He was more about talking about himself than anything and apparently had come here to have some dental work done. (Is there no limit to what the Brits do to keep up their oral hygiene?) When we made our way to the square, he "left me to it" and I was on my own once again. My first impressions of the historical center of Eger were great. It actually reminded me of Destin, Florida for some reason. Very clean, kept up for tourists--but not over-crowded, and with a vibrancy and real connection to the past that was palpable. I decided the first thing I should do was to visit the Minaret to get a bird's-eye view of the town. So I walked past three Christian churches to make my way to this remarkable structure. Being completely ignorant of the history of Eger, I paid my 50 cents worth of Forints to scale the very tall and slender Muslim offering to God. The enclosed spiral staircase were about as steep and narrow as to make Houdini claustrophobic. I had a sweeping thought of what would happen if this thing were to come crashing down with me halfway up, stuck inside. But the feeling passed and I finished climbing the 97 steps for an absolutely incredible view of the town. To come from the train station and then to the apartment (both of which are outside the historical center)and have no real idea what is around you, and then to climb a 400 year old minaret (which is the northernmost Muslim monument in Europe) and see the entire town spread out before you, fills you with such humility and excitement that any tiredness I felt was instantly whisked away and replaced with a sense of immediacy for discovering. The town is breathtaking. I came to learn that the Castle was the stage for one of the most epic defences in all of Europe. It was here in 1552 that less than 2100 Egerians fought off the Turkish army 80,000 strong! Imagine that!! 2100 townspeople-men, women, and children--not soldiers--kept 80,000 Turkish military men at bay. Unbelievable!

But anyway, I got a good feel of the surroundings and slowly made my way back down to the Earth. The invigoration I felt gave me itchy feet and I spent the rest of the daylight hours being amazed at every turn. Beautiful little cobblestoned streets, not unlike Prague, but felt much more authentic. I even found a skate park nestled under a beautiful Eastern Orthodox church. The perfect weather and surroundings led me to take everything in and fully enjoy my existential being, while still feeling connected to the people and the place.

I stopped in the most beautiful Baroque Church I HAVE EVER SEEN and was treated to candy of the eyes and ears as Mass was just finishing up and a children's choir serendaded me as I strained my neck trying to force me senses to soak up much more than they are used to in the hope that my consciousness would also be expanded. After leaving St. Anthony's, I ventured over to St. Stephen's Basillica and was absolutely blown away!!! You know when you're in the mountains or the beach or Rome or Washington DC or some great place of natural or architechtural beauty? The first impression is usually really nice, but you become accustomed to seeing things that aren't normally in your everday experience. You start to expect to see beauty. Well, St. Stephen's is, of course, surrounded by beauty. But the beauty pales in comparison. The layout of this place is on such a grand scale that when you see it, its like one of those effects in movies where the camera simulaneously zooms in and moves away from you. That's what your mind is doing as you try to grasp the beauty and sheer scale of St. Stephen's all at once. A great experience. The church is still so far away from the street that its like climbing up the Lincoln Memorial. You have a lot to do and a lot to comprehend before you are even close to it. Once inside, its the familiar open-mouthed, glazed-over, no-fucking-way look that I've grown so accustomed to over here.

I made my way past the open-air Turkish Baths and back to the flat. I watched some news coverage of an African election race and fell asleep. In the morning I woke up, showered, and made my way to the bus station to hop a bus to Aggtelek. Of course I was so out of it that I didn't realize it was the end of daylight savings time, but no matter. I had an extra hour to kill. A pleasant 2 hour bus ride through the Hungarian countryside and I was magically in Aggtelek. Aggtelek is part of a system of huge underground caverns that spans something like 20 kilometers into Slovakia. In the spring when the waters are a'plenty, you can take a boat trip in one of the underground lakes. It was great to go from a place that has been inhabited since the Stone Age to a place that IS the Stone Age! A nice little tour, although too many tourists talking and flashing their cameras for my liking. In one of the rooms they stage live concerts sometimes. But that day we were only treated to a recording and a light show. Starin' at Stalactites changing colors to the tune of Flight of the Bumblebee is a bit too cheese for me, but memorable nonetheless.

After I took the tour, I had about two hours to kill until the bus back to Eger. So I walked to the nearest busstop and the adjoining village and went to look for a restaurant or store. Nothing doing. There was a nice

Back to the fun.

2006-11-06T13:17:00.000-08:00

I Didn't Install This Two-Way Motel-Room Mirror To Watch People Commit Suicide

A break from the fun.

2006-10-31T15:51:00.000-08:00

Hey guys. Just got back into a 'normal' workweek back in the good ole' Czech Republic and taking some relaxation time to surf the web about things that interest me. I've been thinking a lot about 'ego' lately and what it means to have one, the different forms of ego and consequences of letting it run wild. I read a book a bit ago entitled "People of the Lie; the Hope for Healing Human Evil" by a well-known psychiatrist named M. Scott Peck. In it he talks about the potential for evil in all of us. He also talks in depth about a major Catch 22 when confronting evil in ourselves individually as well as a society.

To paraphrase, he says those most prone to evil are those most likely to avoid investigating it in themselves because it reveals a flaw in the ego that would send it crashing down to the ground. Those people, he says, are most likely to ignore the foundation of ethical thought which has become a maxim of our time: the ends do not justify the means. In other words, according to the basic principle of ethics, we cannot do 'whatever it takes' to realize a goal. He also talks about scapegoating, the act of projecting evil onto others in order to hide or lessen one's own evil. The excuse we've all heard and used ourselves: "Everybody was doing it." This justification for present and future actions not only goes against every ethical and moral fiber we have but also intensifies the guilt by the acknowledgement that that our actions are not brought about by rational, self-reflecting thought. Namely, that we are slaves to the actions of others. The hope that we are not slaves of others' actions is what is called "Character". That we abstain from stealing even if no one is looking, that we stop and help someone when others walk past. Character.

Getting back to the ego: I can say from personal experience that, when allowing my ego to control my thoughts, words, and actions, it is extremely difficult to admit defeat. To say that I was wrong. I think we can all say that we've been in a situation where we knew we were wrong but continued the argument simply for ego gratification. Whether it be a quarrel with a partner or a friendly debate about sports teams. Most of us accept that we are wrong, when backed into a corner. This is a good thing. A healthy thing. The ego is not in control of you. The other direction that can be taken is to distort the past. "I didn't say that" and then lie once more in order to get out of the sticky situation. Not only lying, but spreading disinformation about one's past actions as well as disinformation about one's opponents. This, as Peck says, is the path those prone to evil take.

With that said, I came upon a man today that seemed to lack the good qualities that I just briefly discussed: Ethical thought and Character.

Not only did he lack Good qualities, he possessed Evil qualities: Tendency towards Scapegoating and Lying to prevent collapse of the Ego.

His name is Bill O'Reilly. And he is a man very much prone to evil thought because, in my humble opinion, his ego has taken control of him.

O'Reilly's lack of ethical reasoning as seen recently on David Letterman

O'Reilly's justification of future atrocities just two days after 9/11

O'Reilly's scapegoating to cover evils of the Iraq invasion, as well as his disinformation to justify his scapegoating

I encourage all of you to call your cable or satellite supplier and request that you not receive and pay royalties to Fox News, the channel broadcasting O'Reilly's program.

I Love you all very much.

Welcome to the Land of Magyar

2006-10-28T09:59:00.000-07:00

So what an amazing week Ive had!!! So I dropped my parents off at the tram stop and jumped in the car for a two day tour of Moravia. Moravska Trebova and then Opava. Shows went really well and we spent a night in Olomouc, which is just one of my favorite towns over here. The only problem was with the car, the headlights were so dim I couldnt tell a circus from a cervix. So we had to drive with our brights on most of the trip down country roads. everytime a car came, we had to shut them off and basically drive blind until the passed. Fucking unnerving. But we survived and I can once again impregnate without fear of trading blows with Siegfried. Or is it Roy that's still alive? Either way they're both queers and I ain't about to trade blows with no tigger-lover.
We got back to Prague on Tuesday night, I went right to sleep and woke up to play three shows in a town about 30 km outside the city. It took us an hour and a half to get there and about 2 and a half hours to get back. I fucking hate the roads in this country. Got back in the mid afternoon and at 530, jumped in the car (the one with headlights) and drove to Hungary. To a little town called Békéscsaba. Arrived at 3 in the morning and woke up at 8 to start performing. The first show we had was in a school that had no electricity. And the kids spoke NO English. Usually when the kids arent good at the only REAL language in the world, we have a Czech speaker to guide them through the show. Not so in the land of the Magyar. So it was a major struggle to get through it but we did. After the show we were driving back to the school where we were staying but got stuck behind a horse and buggy for about 10 mins. A fucking horse and buggy. Bringing crops into the town market. Then about 10 mins later, we got stuck behind a guy with a big wheelbarrow pulling cardboard. Who the fuck knows.

So the place we were staying at was like a boarding school. But the kids go home on the weekend. I thought it was just a hostel until the morning when there were about 100 kids screaming and yelling outside my door. And it specializes in gymnastics. So there are kids that come from all over the country to this special school to train in gymnastics. The next evening that kids swarmed me. They just started to say anything they knew in English. So I got a lot of "Hit me baby one more time" "George Bush" and "Pimp my Ride". Im glad they know our most important topics. My room was decorated with the Olsen twins and Desperate Housewives translated into Hungarian. It gives me such a good feeling to know that we are exporting our most influential and sophisticated parts of our culture. But anyway. Some of the kids started just counting in English. They went all the way to one hundred. Seriously. It was like a bad Ali G skit. This one girl was trying upstage the rest by counting faster. Its really hard to keep up enthusiasm about kids counting to 100. I know how this is gonna end. We ended up playing football together. These kids schooled me good. Even the 9 yr old girls were doing circles around me. But then the best kid fell down and sprained his ankle, so that made me feel better.

After the football, David and I dropped by the school we'd played at earlier. We saw about a hundred 13 yr olds get down on bended knee and swear allegience to the seniors. They would swear to let them skip in the cafeteria and then bow. They would swear to speak to them in the formal "You" and then bow. It went on like this for about 10 minutes. All of this was in Hungarian, of course. The chuckling teachers were translating it for us. Such a good-natured rite of passage that could never happen in the States anymore. Teachers in a public school allowing what falls inside the definition of "Hazing" to be performed not only in their company, but openly encouraging it? It sounds horrible, but it was in the best of intentions. And I agree with it. Lets not pretend that 13 year olds are the same as 18 year olds. Theyre incredibly different. And with some rite of passage, whether symbolic or visceral, we as a society are recognizing that difference. I think thats a good thing. Its not about superiority, but about coming of age and respect. Superiority enters into it only when the ego does. But it is presumptious of us to think that ego MUST enter into it. Granted, it is very easy for the ego to take hold of the power trip, but it is selling the human spirit short to forbid potentially spiritual experiences simply because of doubt of the participants' character. That is to say only if the one coming of age is accepting of coming of age. Nobody should force you to become an adult. It is a personal decision.

Ok with that little tangeant off my chest, back to Békéscsaba. After the students' show, we went for a couple of beers and met some of the students out. So we chatted them up for a while, talking about music and sports and all other non-confrontational topics we could think of. Not because it would be a sore topic, but only because they were 16 and spoke a different language. Even if Politics or Religion or whatever was on their mind, they'd have a very difficult time getting their opinions across clearly. So on it went about cars and the Grand Canyon and Robbie Williams. After two beers, we said goodbye, were offered to join them the next night and went on our way. Walked back to the school and went to bed.

The next morning I had free, so I slept in til 9, laid around and read til 10.30 and then showered, got yelled at for having the cd player up too loud and then ventured into the town. Ran into Lenka and David walking down the Promenade. They pointed me in the right direction for a good lasagna gyro and then we parted ways. After a pointless trip to the Vodaphone store, I settled down on a park bench and dug into "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". Phenomenal, one of the best books Ive ever read. Such a great mixture of so many elements. A motorcycle story, a father and son story, an instruction manual, philosophical meanderings, a psychological story, a spiritual metaphor. Just fantastic. Im only half way through it, but its such a great feeliing to be totally into a book early on and be excited everytime you pick it up! Anyway, I had a great time reading under the sunlight breaking through the trees. The light hit my page with a strange mixture of shadow that seemed to liven my senses, made me look around at my surroundings, my situation, and the world at large, and smile. I saw the small shops lining the street, selling clothes and household items and everyday things. I saw the cafe waiter taking orders and chatting up customers. The people on bicycles, going to and from these shops, going to work, picking their children up from school. The violin player, taking requests for 10 Forints, Que Sera Sera! I live for this!

I ran into one of the students and she invited me out again with her friends and I told her I'd try to make it. I slowly strolled back home and stopped in a market and bought some snacks. I walked out and saw a strange thing. There was a car on display with its stereo blasting. Standing next to the Skoda was a man in a tuxedo and sunglasses. He moved only as a robot and only to the beat of the music. A guy came up to look at the car and the Robot popped the trunk and and displayed the engine. All very bizarre. A bit closer home, I stopped by the main Church and had a look inside. Nothing compared to what was to come. But thats for another time, I gotta hop a train back to Prague where Ill hopefully find some time in the next couple of days to catch up with everything. If you are a person I know, I miss you very much. If you are'nt, quit reading strangers' blogs you loon.

Mental Fodder

2006-10-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

Hey guys, Just a quick one this time. Have been working like mad. Traveling like crazy. And falling on my face like its my job. Got lots to talk about. Venice. Florence. Mountain Biking. Czech Politics. Aliens. But all that will have to wait. My parents, yes that's right, my parents are flying across the pond as we speak. My father's first venture outside of Right to Bear Arms ever. Evuu. I'm sure he brought lots of steak knives. So my time will be spent with them, and not with you. You selfish scabs. To stave off your hunger for more controversial antics by yours truly, here's a couple of links.

Enjoy mon amis.

The History

The Fringe

The Truth

Chip Gardner's Hero

Back from Moravia

2006-09-15T10:55:00.000-07:00

So I just got back from a tour with the theatre. We were in Eastern Moravia for 3 days. About a Kilometer from both Poland and Slovakia. One of the jokes in my play is me making fun of Slovakian-made gun. Needless to say, it didn't go over well with em. Most of them are dirty Slovaks. Plus shame on me for resorting to cheap ethnic stereotypes to get a quick laugh from a bunch of 12 yr olds. Im going to Hell. Or Hades. Or maybe Gehenna or even Naraka. Nah, I'll probably just enter some kind of collective unconscious, waiting for the conscious ones to make up their minds. Either way, my ethics have been lowered. Other than that little flub, things went well and I spent my afternoons touring the rolling hills and vineyards of the Moravian countryside.

I've been homeless in Prague since I returned from Summer Camp at the end of August. Been too busy to really look. Plus, all the places I've looked have either been too expensive or had girls living there. I consulted my handy-dandy Southern Baptist Bible and it says that if I "layeth with an unwed woman, thou [I] shalt reap the flames of eternal damnation." That didn't sound too good. And I think 'layeth' applies to the same building, so I better stay away. But the same book also I talks about layething with men. So maybe I should just get a dog? But then I read some more and it mentions animals too! Wow, that Yahweh sure is picky about roommates. He sure wasn't considering the financial implications of his rules, am I right?

Also, Monday was the 5th anniversary of September 11th. Don't get me wrong but isn't every day an anniversary of another date? Is that the best name we can give this thing? I mean, aren't we the kings of marketing? Shouldn't the Department of Propaganda come up with something a little more catchy? Something like Rescue: 9/11? They could have William Shatner do the voice-over. His rendition of "Rocketman" would work quite nicely, I think. Or how about Paris Hilton standing in front of the flaming Towers, saying "That's Hot!" Get it? Oh man, they'd sell a million Nokia Sidekicks (or whatever that despicable Spawn of Satan is putting down her cum gullet that day.) Or maybe just nice and simple and direct: "Bush's Excuse for The War Machine". Me, Cynical?

I actually tried not to think about anything on Monday. I tried to avoid the whole idea. But when I got home, Cesky Televize was playing Fahrenheit 9/11 nationwide. Im kinda curious if other countries did the same thing. Anyways, it was the first time I saw it, and its definitely propaganda and goes on needless tangents. "Who the fuck cares if lighters are allowed on airplanes?" But some of the footage and facts really make me sick. Of course, he did leave out the Monica Lewinsky connection, when Clinton, in a wag-the-dog move, bombed bin Laden in order to divert attention from the scandal.

Ok I think I've said enough to make you think I'm a nut.

Here's a little MySpace poster that gave me a little giggle. Enjoy.

My wonderful girlfriend and I had been dating for over a year, and so we decided to get married. There was only one little thing bothering me.
It was her beautiful younger sister. My prospective sister-in-law was twenty-two, wore very tight miniskirts, and generally was braless. She would regularly bend down when she was near me, and I always got more than a pleasant view of her private parts. It had to be deliberate. She never did it when she was near anyone else.

One day "little" sister called and asked me to come over to check the wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived, and she whispered to me that she had feelings and desires for me that she couldn't overcome. She told me that she wanted to make love to me just once before I got married and committed my life to her sister.

Well, I was in total shock, and couldn't say a word. She said, "I'm going upstairs to my bedroom, and if you want one last wild fling, just come up and get me." I was stunned and frozen in shock as I watched her go up the stairs. When she reached the top she pulled off her panties and threw them down the stairs at me. I stood there for a moment, then turned and made a beeline straight to the front door.

I opened the door, and headed straight towards my car.

Lo and behold, my entire future family was standing outside, all clapping! With tears in his eyes, my future father-in-law hugged me and said, We are very happy that you have passed our little test.....we couldn't ask for a better man for our daughter. Welcome to the family."

And the moral of this story is.....

Always keep your condoms in your car."

Titled

2006-09-04T06:55:00.001-07:00

Just a short one this time. I'm on Skype. Are you on Skype? No? Then you might as well as stop using ProActiv cuz all the acne cream in the world isn't gonna make one licka difference when 'She' is talking to all the hotties on her oh-so-un-nerdbox. Plus, you've got that pesky Ricketts thing. Check it.

www.skype.com.

my name is matt.lyon

Now, I'm sure all of you are aware of the SoaP phenomenon. For those of you living in Gillot's ass-crack for the last 6 months, Snakes on a Plane has been generating huge internet hype for quite some time. Anybody seen it? Tell me about it. Here's a nice little parody that'll bring you back to freshman year. That is, if you were cool enough to hang out with Chase Carter and the 4444 Whores.

All Your Snakes are Belong to Us

In other news: Apparently all our baby-makin has been givin our bitches...wait for it....Cancer. Yep, that's right. Oh Yahweh, thou art a cruel and mysterious Jester. Plus this proves god is a Man. Cuz, if he were a woman, he'd have cancer! Ha, that gave me a little chuckle.

The Next Scare Tactic for Fathers with Teenage Daughters

CzechTek's a Wreck, Croatia's Bodacious

2006-08-25T05:38:00.001-07:00

Alright, finally have some time on my hands and figured I'd put my idle hands to good use instead of, well, you know the saying. So Budapest is really nice, but not much different from Prague, so it doesn't really beg my blog time. We returned to Prague and made our way back to the apt for some much needed time in our own bed after a 20 day hiatus. It was glad to see us. It missed us. It told me so. The next few days are a bit of a blur but it was mostly relaxing and laxing. Meghan was supposed to leave on the 1st of August but, as fate would have it, she was able to join me for summer camp in Selce, Croatia.

But before then we had some business to take care of. Partying was in order. We, along with another couple, jumped on a bus to Cesky Raj (Czech Paradise) and spent three days drinking, taking a dip in the lake, playing foosball, finally discovering where the Czech Rednecks hang, and hiking in the mountains. We returned at noon on Friday and at 5 that day journeyed toward CzechTek. For the uninitiated, CzechTek is a weeklong electronic music festival. Completely free, 24 hours a day. You'd go to sleep with a soundstation a hundred yards away and wake up to the same dj spinning the same beat. Makes you wonder if there was even a dj. Which makes you wonder if the machines have taken over already. But file that in the paranoid column and let's move on. Tweakers galore. Fun, but mostly Drum n' Bass which, in a completely logical world should cause seizures within minutes. Not to mention the strobe lights and drugs a'rampant. I abstained, thank you very much. Twas a people-watching affair only. The complete lack of authority/medical facilities/toilets/drinkable water was a downer, but the kids are alright (aside from bruises from the 3 foot concrete holes in the middle of the dancing area/ex-house foundation.) Matty and Meggy had funny.

Back to Prague and then Croatia ahoy! We left on the bus with 100 kids aged 5-18 to the beautiful coast of the Adriatic Sea. One thing that surprised me was how mountainous it was. I was amazed when I woke and saw the scale of the mountains we had embarked on. Seriously breathtaking. We arrived and had orientation and all that and made the strenuous 50ft trek to the beach. Except it wasn't a beach, it was where the water met stones the size of your fist. So no volleyball weary. Wait, that's "No rest for the weary." No volleyball for the nary. Sure, why not. Ok. The water was clearer than W's rhetoric. Strike that. Reverse it. Amazingly crystal clear water with colorful little fishys I'd seen only in Aquariums and Windows Screen Savers. The kids were great. The same ones as last year, so it was a great reunion with em. Selce is opposite of Krk (Neck), the biggest island of the Croatian Coast, and we were fortunate enough to take a boat trip to said isle and visit a nice little town named Vrbn. Don't ask. But what a trip to see a centuries old town on a rocky, mountainous island. Truly amazing to behold.

At night, we took trips to the nearby towns for the necessary daily ice cream allowance. Most of the kids partook in pizza as well cuz the food at camp was, well, pretty fucking shitty. Breakfast comprised of bread and pate, which meat(s) I'm not sure. Lunch was soup, one step above gruel. And dinner was the kill of the day. Usually of the grey variety. Meghan's vegetarianism didn't fare too well in these harsh climates, so she stockpiled butter and marmalade from breakfast to stave off hunger throughout the day. The coast is absolutely beautiful with amazing sunsets every night. Our days were spent in the water (where you could jump straight from the rocks into the deep blue ocean) and English. The term "English Camp" in this case is a stretch. Mostly just babysitting, I usually threw on a movie using my handy-dandy new nerdbox. The majority of the lessons involved questions of Symoblism in Edward Scissorhands as well as whether Capt. Jack's tattoos were real or not. Who doesn't love Johnny Depp now that he's gold at the box office. And yes, I would love to get him a regular Red Bull instead of the desired Sugarfree cuz then he'd yell at me and there'd be a better chance of remembering me when I see him in heaven. (That is, of course, once Jesus comes down and kills all of the Muslims and Liberals.) Who knows, we might even get to dance to sappy a Clapton song. (I'll have to puke up 10lbs first, and oh my gosh what'll I wear?) But I would'nt lose weight for just for Johnny Depp. That's shallow. The Son of Man don't want no fatties neither.

So camp was great. Excellent paid vacation. We returned to Prague and said our goodbyes to the kiddies, making empty promises to write them and to see them again. Stupid little kids. Our lease being out on the previous domicile, we shacked up with a Czech friend in the heart of Old(e) Town for a week. We spent our days walking the streets, cussing English tourists in Czech and Czech tourists in English. As much as we wanted to believe we were different from the hordes, we weren't. We'd just decided to stay longer.

Then Meghan hopped a plane to Madison last Friday and I've been a shell ever since. Fortunately, I'ved had some distractions. I've been in the Krkonose Mtns since Sunday with an Adult Language camp. This camp is serious. 5 hrs a day of adults who ask questions like "When using two verbs in a row, when do we use the infinitive and when do we use the gerund?" Discuss.

But it has its perks. I'm getting free room and board, meals, and transport there and back. Plus I'm getting paid and my afternoons are spent hiking or mountain biking. Yesterday I took a 25km trip to the top of Cerna Hora (Black Mountain) and rode down the fucker at break neck speeds with no helmet. Or insurance. I know. All the ladies must be screaming, "Matt Lyon, you're wild, you're dangerous, you're baaaaaad!"

I'll return on Saturday and the house hunt must commence. Also, work starts full time on Monday. I must say that it's been one hell of a summer for yours truly. Between being in the States and seeing the Cubs' most glorious series of the year, Chip's wedding, to running around Istanbul in the middle of the night, partying on the Bulgarian Coast and climbing the hill overlooking Budapest (as well as dropping the L-bomb[a first {and hopefully last 〈and hey, i've always wanted to use chevrons!〈 for this young romantic}]) I must say that I couldn't ask for and probably won't ever receive a better 6 months in my entire life.

So that is where I must leave you. As August draws to a close, I hope this summer season has treated you well. I'm glad I wasn't stuck in a cubicle. In fact, these last 6 months have completely validated my decision not to call the life insurance guy for that shitty jobv after graduation. Also, lets hear more from y'all. If the barrel ain't flowin' feel free to use my comments page as a forum. I wanna hear what y'all are up to. Much Love to You. Yours in Christ, Matthew.

Eastern Europe is for Eastern Europeans.

2006-07-31T07:56:00.000-07:00

Alright kiddies. Round two is finally finished and ready for takeoff. So after Istanbul, we got on a bus and headed to Varna, Bulgaria. A nice little drive that took us through the outskirts of Istanbul to give us a glimpse of how the city folk in Turkey really live. Crowded streets with even more cramped buildings; sad, down-trodden apartments that seemed to have been morose since the day they were built. Tenants whose very nature seemed to have been transformed by their surroundings. But ours was just a glimpse of the other half and we were soon on our way into the dark Balkans. On the bus we met a very nice Bulgarian woman named Valena who was kind enough to help us find a hotel once we got in at six in the morning.. Unable to check in until noon, we dropped our stuff off and high-tailed it to the beach. The Black Sea is something of a mix between Mobile Bay and a garbage dump. The waves were almost nonexistent and the beach was rough with cigarette butts and 70 year-old breasts. But a welcome respite, nonetheless. And Meghan was stoked to be at the beach after an 8 month divorce. Slept and dreamt of traveling the world in my own backyard and awoke to her beautiful face, as she showered me with affection. With our stomachs growling and our faces burning we decided to get out of the sun for a bit and stumbled into one of the coolest places either one of us have ever been to. Dubbed aLounge, its a beach deck the size of a baseball field with two pools in the middle. White leather beds complete with cabana girls surrounded the pools and were available for 8 Leva ($5) all day long. House is the music of choice in this swank cranny and there is plenty of it, day and night. I’ll never be in a sweeter jaunt unless I’m an extra in some fake California reality show chronicling the life of Jackie Kennedy Onassis or Anne Bancroft.

In the evening we ate Dinner and took a walk down the strip of clubs to see what we could see. Interesting clubs (with cover being only 2 Leva) but lacking in beats. Mostly dance-pop with some bad bootie bass to make it just slightly unbearable. The next morning we woke up and headed back to the beach for even more fun in the sun. The funny thing about Bulgaria is that it still uses the Cyrillic alphabet, so almost everything is not only in a different language, but also different texts. Not only do they have a completely incomprehensible language, but they also shake their heads ‘yes’ and nod ‘no’. I thought this part of human communication was part of some inherent psychology, but apparently not. Now I must requestion my entire existence as a human being. It makes doing things on your own almost impossible. Fortunately English is their second language, so we had zero trouble doing anything. The next day we went to the archaeological museum and were blown away by what we saw. Art and tools dating back to the 5^th century BC. Roman bath ruins and leftovers from the Ottoman days really let you know that you’re very near the cradle of civilization, which was only a mere 700 miles away.

We went back to aLounge for our last night in Varna and laid by the pool listening to the beats of the jock until we could stand it no longer and ran to the beach for our own personal dance party.

The Bulgarians we met in Varna were such nice people, caring not that we were wandering idiots and incredibly helpful and compassionate. We did see a disproportionate amount of stray dogs though. The funny thing was that all of them had been tagged in the ear by some authority. Which begs the question, do they not have pounds? What good is it to brand a dog “stray”? Our minds blown, we nonetheless shared our love with some of the lovesick creatures, one of which took a liking to us and decided to protect us all the way home. She walked between us and whenever something threatening appeared, be it another dog or a misshapen bush, she would bark and growl and do everything in her power to let us know that she can serve a purpose for us and that she would make a loyal and trustworthy addition to our imagined home. Despite our best efforts, dogs were not allowed in the hotel and thus, we parted ways with our new friend with the greatest of unease. Our train didn’t leave until 10 the next night so we checked out of our hotel and spent all day at the Lounge, soaking up the sun, playing chess, and giggling to ourselves.

We took the overnight train to Bucharest and arrived at 7 in the morning and passed out at the hostel. We woke up and got our bearings of the city. First impressions: Weak. Bucharest reminds me of what would happen if a crazy dictator decided to destroy 1000 year old buildings and replace them with poorly constructed Soviet apartment blocks. Oh wait. Yeah, you get the picture. Bucharest is poor, unsightly, and worst of all, poor. So the quick story behind the last reign of Nicolae Ceauşescu: dude gets power in 1965. Not only outlaws abortion and contraception, but makes it illegal to not have kids, whether married or single. What a punch in the gut to the dude that can’t get any play to begin with. Not only does the pain of rejection sting, he also gets slapped with a fine by the government for not getting laid. By the late 60’s the population swelled and the number of street kids was running amuk. Especially with the amount of Romy (Gypsy) population growing, Romania became known as a cancer on the USSR. In 1989, whilst giving a celebratory speech to workers, we was booed off his balcony. Rumor has it that he told his military general to fire upon the crowd. When the general refused to give orders, he was killed. He was finally forced out, escaped for a brief instance, but was soon captured by the army. Quickly tried, and executed, along with his wife. Nationally broadcast. Nonetheless, hundreds of people were killed during the uprising and millions more were affected.

So Romania is the country I visited that is still stinging from Communist dictatorship in a major way. Whilst sitting at a café, we were hounded 4 times in 20 minutes for money. Beggars are everywhere and its really heartbreaking to see the way some people there live. We were in an internet café that had a hole in the floor. In the room below, there were workers yelling and screaming. And digging. Digging a hole for what I’m not sure, but it definitely didn’t seem to be on the up-and-up. We met a couple on the train who told us about personal feelings and experiences and it’s really amazing to be in a place where something like this happened. His legacy as a megalomaniac is evident in the Palace of the People. 1200 rooms. 1400 chandeliers, marble and carpet as far as the eye can see. Second largest building in the world, next to the Pentagon. Still under construction. sick sick sick.

After Bucharest, we were happy to get to Budapest. Another 6 am arrival, and another noon check-in. Wandered and got food. First impressions: like Prague, only….not. Great views of the river and the night life is up and kicking. Had an apartment surrounded by real-life Hungarians. They have lobsters crawling out of their ears. Ok enough for today. Check pics yo.

Who birthed this Idiot?

Why did Constantinople get the works? That's nobody's business but the Turks

2006-07-15T06:55:00.000-07:00

Crew, Crew. A little MTL updates for you's ass. For those of you who missed Whoreleans for Chip's wedduu, you missed one helluva time. In brief: Maker's Mark, Maker's Mark, Maker's Mark. And, oh yes, Danny made his triumphant return into the fold. Pulp Fiction dance and all. I'll return to that subject at a later date. For now, there are more pressing matters.

I returned to Prague on the 4th of July, after 30 hours of travel. Got to my apartment and made a mad dash to the beer gardens to watch some World Cup action and recommune with wayward American and Czech friends. The next few days were a whirlwind tour of errands and drinking before my excursion to Turkey and Eastern Europe. Meghan (if you're not in the know, the snazziest chick this side of the Atlantic, hailing from the Cheesy State) and I humped a bird to Istanbul. Got in and had little problems getting to our hostel. Our cab dropped us off in Sultanahmed Square, pinched between the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia Mosque. Two of the most gorgeous structures this meek Alabamian has ever laid eyes on. We met two Norwegians, Eric and Anders. At least, those are their Anglified names. The were kind enough to get us to our hostel and we arranged to meet for drinks after we dropped our merchandise off. The hostel we stayed at had a balcony bar with just an incredible view of the Marmara Sea, harvest moon and all. Had a few drinks with our new friends then hastened to sleep in anticipation of the exploritude that awaited us only a few hours away.

Our first stop was the Blue Mosque. Significance: lots of blue tiles. Historical significance: loads, the only thing I know is that it has six minarets instead of the typical 4. A minaret, btw, is a slender tower where dude gets Pavarotti on your ass. I'm sure its got other functions, like evoking Allah and junk like that. My first time in a mosque, though, and my first impressions were substantial. Fully carpeted with amazingly ornate tiles lining the walls and domed ceiling. Lights were abundant, but hung only inches away from our heads. Not sure why, but its a pretty cool effect. After we saw what we could see, we got hustled into a rug store, by a very nice Turkish man. Were served apple juice and given a private rug show. Kinda like a lap dance, but change the couches into rugs and the stripper into Turkish air, and you'll get the idea. After the shopkeep realized he was grinding on the wrong ne'er-do-wells, he was still nice enough to have a chat, instead of report us to the surly bouncer, his 8 yr-old son in this case. After we left him unsatisfied, we got some lunch and had our first encounter with the call-to-prayer: a five minute sung reading of the Qur'an. It was largely ignored by the people, but had me enthralled. Pretty much just how you've heard it in Alladin and They Might Be Giants tunes, but a trip to hear it live and in person. It continued to call my attention from there-on-out.

After lunch, we made our way down to the port of Marmara, where we had our first glance of Asia. Much like St Louis is the Gateway to the West, Istanbul is the Gateway to the East (except it doesn't blow nearly as hard as Nellyville does, although East Istanbul is just as Shady as East St Lewy.) I believe this a natural continental border, as a lot of the history mentions earthquakes. We walked through a very nice park and then made our way back to the hostel. We ran into our Norwegian friends and decided to share a cab across the sea to Taksim, a trendy spot of nightlife, to watch the World Cup final. Italy can you know what to my you know where. After the first club failed, (we weren't in the mood to dance to Sonique) we found a cool rock pub with a Turkish band playing a mix of Turkish classics (all the girlies were beltin em out) and classic rock. Seriously, the best rendition of "Another brick in the Wall" I've ever heard. The guitarist looked like he was in Sound Tribe Sector 9 and played just as well. We made friends with the staff and I ended up arm wrestling the bartender at the end of the night. I let him win. We left thoroughly spent and downright drunky. The next day we went to Hagia Sofia, which is amazing. Its present form has been standing since 537, after two renditions were destroyed, dating back to the 4th century. Here's a pic.
Check it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagia_Sofia

Ok, so that's all you get now, part deux coming in a few days. In Varna, Bulgaria at the moment. Gotta go nap and eat and drink. Not necessarily in that order.

The "Saint" in Saint Louis is a misnomer.

2006-06-13T08:58:00.000-07:00

Hey guys, so judging by the comments of the last two posts, I can see that you are enthralled with my daily occurrences. Whats been going on. Well, I spent a week up in Annapolis with my brother, et al. It was a great week of eating, drinking, sleeping, and occasionally pooping. Once in a while I went outside to notice that the sun is, in fact, still shining. I kid, I kid! I took my sister to a Nationals baseball game and got great seats courtesy of a Prague buddy. Back-to-back homeruns and a big W for Washington. The only big W that should be in Washington, despite the efforts of bumper stickers (dis)gracing H2s and Land Rovers all over this country.

Portion edited. Rode to St Louis for the Cubs/Cardinals series. Went to Tommy's house and went to a couple of dive bars before making it over the the East Side. Oh how I miss East St. Louis! Actually, I miss it not. After the dirty floors, the dirty beer, the dirty patrons, there's only about 27 other dirty things that go on there. The next afternoon, met up with Hatchard and Lauber for a Chotchky's Lunch. Baked Raviolli and all. Then the game Friday night lasted 14 innings, which I thoroughly enjoyed, except for the whole 'no beer after the 7th inning' rule. After a huge win by the Cubs, we headed over to Al Hrabowsky's for some extra-inning funnery. Pretty standard warehouse divebar, except the men's bathroom has one-way mirrors facing the line to the girls bathroom, so while you're acquainting yourself with...yourself, you're acquainting yourself with the female constituency, who are waiting to acquaint themselves with themselves. It's all very incestuous or laviscious or something else with an -ous suffix.

Went back to the hotel for typical fare late night activities with Lauber, Neil, Col, Hannigan, and Jamie. Portion edited. The next day we woke up, ate, and went to the game again. Cubs blow the game open and Lauber and I spend the afternoon swigging bourbon and eating creamed desserts obtained more or less semi-legally.

After the game, we went to Broadway Oyster Bar and had an absolute blast reunioning to no end, and flirting with the waitress, who was feeding us shots. Just to make it official, Lauber and I rode in the trunk of an 18 year-old's SUV, swigging warm Budweiser. We are now back in college. We went to the bar connected with the hotel, which actually, wasn't half bad. Ate some more baked raviolli, threatened little Lauber with castration if he doesn't stay away from my sister, listened to the absolute worst rendition of "Radar Love" by Neil and Dom via Karaoke, Seriously, the worst shit ever, and watched Portion edited. Then upstairs for Imo's and more tomfoolery of the green variety. So that was St. Louis. Nothing too crazy happened, but I think we were all happy to be in each other's company again. Looking forward to much more of it next weekend in New Orleans. Come on down, whadya say. In the meantime, check out this guy, who seriously lost it.

Standard Slipknot fan actually listens to what band is saying.

I don't have much of an appetite

2006-06-01T06:42:00.000-07:00

So after you see the way the truf the trick ass bitch of the One Man Show, you'll be happy to see that I have found my blog arch-nemesis up to no good once again. This unnamed anomaly might have told some of you that we went to Mexico for a 'family trip'. A confidential email has come across my desk at (Mis)Adventures headquarters to prove otherwise. See for yourself.

Longface using his thespian skills to help the insurance monster line its pockets

Repeat after me, bitch! I come in the name of Jesus, by the power of the Holy Spirit!

2006-05-31T18:38:00.000-07:00

With great enthusiasm, I am proud to say that my spiritual search is over. And it ends right where it began: with Jesus Christ. Enjoy.

The Spirit of Truth

For Andy

2006-05-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

Ok so I think I'm fully adjusted back into the Fucked Up States of Amorica. SUVs don't look nearly as foreboding of the end of the world as they did when I first arrived and fat people don't look like they're as hungry for young, supple Expat EuroTrash. And I'm getting spoiled rotten by all things parental. Flew back into Gulfport and went down to the strip. Damn. Looks like it hit yesterday. Spent a couple of days at home with the fam and then got thrown back into College, Spring Hill Styzzie.

The first night I was there, some krazy kids set up tarps on the golf course for boozenslide. Yahweh, being the caring intervening divination that He is, was happy to oblige us with a thunderstorm of ferocity. Muff got things started by funneling a beer and making the magic leap. Then he wowed us again by donning his birthday suit and taking the plunge. Somebody should have told his ass cheeks not to open their dirty mouth. Mental Scars! Mental Scars! So then the girlies got involved and made the weeping stop and it was fun had by all. Almost all. Apparently there is something called bottles. When used appropriately they are a delicious way of consuming a malt beverage. When thrown off 3-story balconies for hilarity's sake they can be nasty droppings for unsuspecting Girls Gone Wild. A couple folks went to the hospital. It is rumored that P-Nut got slashed from gut to groin. What kids won't do for College's Sake.

The rest of the weekend went as scheduled. Drink, get drunk, get stoned, get crunk, creep, pass out, repeat.

An excellent post graduation party held at Felix's Beachside was enjoyed by myself and most of the seniors that I allowed entrance. I had to turn away the Guzy's on account of all four girls plus both parents in one party signifies the beginning of the Apocalypse, as foretold in Revelations 14: 8-10. After Felix's, went to Wegmann's and rolled a phat game of Yahtz. Almost a Virgie. That's the second sign of said Apocalypse. Really cutting it close. Went to Pat's downtown for an, honestly, lackluster graduation party. I did get to see McAuliffe get angry, apologize, try to leave without a ride, come back inside, get more drunky and pass out. One more time.

The next day I was awakened by my sister's ex-boyfriend returning a tv set at 3 in the afternoon. Its hard to punch someone in the face when youre still delirious and disoriented. You one that battle. The day of reckoning will come. You know who you are.

On Tuesday, I was invited down to the beach and willingly obliged. But first, a haircut was in order. I've been growing my hair longer than Irving has been growing his monkey suit and Matty needed some loving by Jeff poste haste. Unfortunately our beloved man-candy moved on to greener pastures and I was stuck with Melanie, his portly chair wench. I don't think she did anything, but she charged me for it, nonetheless.

On the interstate, I got a blowout in the green Accent and had to pull off and change the tire with 18 wheelers just feet away. I got it done, but still didn't beat my record in ATL, Dom. Damn.

Finally got to the beach and had a goddamn blast. Meredith made a hot Mexican night buffet and we danced and drank the night away listening to Selena sing in English. Went to Flora-Bama expecting to see it in tatters, but was up and running and helped us along the way to inebriation faster than you can say "Cotten-Eyed Joe".

The next two days are a bit blurry, but you know the story. Wake up grab a beer, go to the beach, pretend to be coherent enough to throw the football, fail miserably, pass out on the beach, get burned, wake up, eat dinner, take a nap, get stupid. The last night we went back to FB to do more Bushwackering and I ran into James Rutter. You know, its nice when you can have a civil conversation with someone with whom you have almost nothing in common with, except that you are sharing a common experience Here and Now.

Woke up at noon, said goodbyes, and took off back to Mobile to pack for a week in Maryland. So here I am in Annapolis for my brother's graduation from the Naval Academy. I'll fill you in on the rest of my journeys at a later date. Sorry for not updating this 'jaunt' in a timely manner, but my flashes of brilliance have been few and far between.

Where the Fuck am I?

2006-05-09T21:29:00.000-07:00

I'm not in Prague anymore and I'm freaking out. More to come as the neurotic tendencies wax and wane.

2006-04-03T05:45:00.000-07:00

The new post by Senor Longface has reached far into the nether region of my very soul and with its bearded claws has procured a memory from the cold, lonely days of my nerdery. A quick Google search put my mind at ease with the knowledge that these gems are still floating around:

Stinky Meat

Stinky Feet

The Fat Project

Caution: Watching these in succesion have been known to cause severe diarrhea.

I Miss Ol' Bammy Once Again, and I Think its a Sin

2006-03-06T04:04:00.001-08:00

Avert your Eyes

Lost in the Great White Open

2006-02-20T05:21:00.000-08:00

The snow has melted, but I don't think that it is Spring just yet. Work is going well, I'm working with the theater a lot. I really enjoy entertaining the kids and meeting them after wards. Many of them are so excited to meet a foreigner and practice their English! Some of the laws over here are a bit strange. For example, sometimes the actors are given some small gift by the school. After one performance a teacher and a 10 year-old boy came up to me, and after encouragement from the teacher, the boy gave me a bottle of beer. It was no big deal until I thought about it later. If I were in the States, I would be arrested for having alcohol on school grounds, the child would be suspended or expelled, and the teacher would be fired. Vive le difference.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to go home for Christmas, but I made the most of it here. One of my students invited me over to her house for Christmas so I was well taken care of. We took a walk in the mountains nearby and then stayed up late speaking of Czech-American relations. Between Christmas and New Year's I went to Slovakia by myself and had a great time. I didn't have any solid plans, I just kind of went. I stayed in Bratislava in the capital for a night and then did some research online and found a family in the Tatra mountains that had an open room. So I got on a train and got as close as 7 miles to the small village. It was dark and cold and I don't speak Slovakian, but I was able to run into a young Slovakian who helped me find my way to this town, Hrabusice. I arrived and the family didn't know I was coming because they didn't check their email that day. But they were so welcoming and quickly made a bed and made some tea and welcomed me into their home. Their son helped me plan a trip to go skiing the next day in the High Tatra Mountains. It was so beautiful! Such a great experience, but unfortunately had no one to share it with. The day after, the son took me on a nature walk into the Slovakian National Forest. The only problem was that there was about three feet of snow on the ground! It was amazing! I've never been completey surrounded by so much snow. There was no escaping it. We walked on a frozen riverbed and I could see fish swimming below the ice. It wasn't completely frozen and my foot broke through. So then I HAD to keep walking because if I didn't I'd get frostbite. We walked for a couple more hours and visited an old monastery from the 13th century. Eastern Orthodox Christians. And very strict. Vegetarians, couldn't share food from their personal garden between themselves, white robes, completely cloistered, with a vow of silence. The only words they could speak to each other was to and from the altar of worship: "Remember one day that you will die." They're Hearty! They were eventually run out by the Hussites, I think. But there is still a group of them in Austria.

I returned to Prague after a 12 hour train ride where I met some Slovakian students. We drank and smoked on the train in the wee hours of the morning, until they got off. Then at 5 am the train broke down and everyone had to walk in the cold and snow to the next town to wait for the next train. So I finally got home at 8am on New Year's Eve, slept for a good 10 hours and woke up in time to celebrate with a million of my closest friends. There is something incredibly liberating about being in a crowd of people and not having the ability to make a decision about where you are going next. No decision, no guilt! Anyway, I think I made up for not being in the States for the holidays, although I miss everyone terribly.

I'll be going to Austria with the theater in a couple of weeks and I think I might be going to France in March. Its pretty nice that I get paid vacations. :) I'm also going to Holland in March for a concert and to visit Roy Dalati, who lives in Rotterdam. Then, I'll be back in the States to visit in May. Somebody better come back dead from 175th.

Everything is UnGodly!

2006-01-29T12:24:00.000-08:00

For those of you who want to see what happens to a true believer in the Good/Evil, Jesus/Satan parody, check out this video of Fear of God turning into just plain Crazy.

http://www.youtube.com/w/God-Warrior!?v=xqYqqwgDey0&eurl=

A Photo Tribute to John Moses

2006-01-19T00:47:00.000-08:00

As we all know, John Moses will always live in our hearts as one of those unique individuals who has touched our lives, but whom we might never truly know. But now, through the miracle of MySpace, we are able to really penetrate a person and discover their inner Being. I feel that these photos speak for themselves as to the merit of this fine American, but if one should find it necessary, I will accept photo comments, to be submitted in an orderly fashion, to the blog comments page. Keep in mind these were the photos he felt were a fair description of his character and suitable for internet publishing.

All I want for Christmas is Tussy. (or was it a new Pie?)

2005-12-26T07:23:00.000-08:00

Hello fellow bellowers. My name is Matthew and I have a problem. I miss my friends. I know what you're thinking: "But Matt: Joey, Chandler, Monica, Rachael, Phoebe, and Ross will always be there for you for only 29.95." This I know. But Danny, Shane, MC, Kari, Will, Jamie, Andy, TJoe, Jenn, Jack, Blake, Bubbles, Billy, Sean, Neil, Mike, Pat, Brian, Ashley, Doug, Burbach, Dom, Blair, and a host of others are not as plastic-wrapable. At least not the fellas. So I'm in Prague alone this year, which isn't all bad, but I just wish I could be there with y'all. Most of the Americans over here went back for the holidays leaving me with a dirty apartment and a black hole in my soul. So I must fill it with holiday cheer. At least its cheap. (Only a dollar for a half liter.)

It was strange because, I didn't really have much time to think about it till the 24th, as I was working until 7 on Friday. So now that rumored Sunday neurosis is kicking in with a vengeance. But I did have a nice Christmas. One of my students invited me over on the 25th and I spent the day with her family. Took a walk in the mountains and stayed up late talking Czech/American relations. Very relaxing, but nothing like embarrasing my family by walking downstairs with an erection Christmas morning. A Lyon family tradition. My parents did send me a gift package, though. The two biggest requested items: deoderant and socks. my best present this year was deoderant, and my biggest disappointment: socks. fucking socks. i realized how a big of a loser ive become when i wish for socks for christmas and my fucking parents dont even get them for me. its not like i asked for a fucking cruise ship or something. Just Fucking Socks! But enough wallowing.

I've been keeping busy these past few months. So busy, in fact, that I've neglected my obligations to you fine people. I'm working more than I've ever worked in my life. It's at least a 12 hr day, which usually becomes a 16 hour day. I'm usually in a car by 5.30 in the morning to travel to some random place in the Czech Republic. I act like an idiot on stage until noon, then fly home for afternoon classes. Unless the car breaks down, that is. I won't go into detail about what has happened. Well, maybe just a little. Two weeks ago, we got stuck in the snow about 200 km away from Prague and blew the distributor block on this piece of shit Skoda 130. I two-door Hyundai not unlike my breathless beauty towed us to the nearest town with us still in the car. Never thought I'd do that. Then, two days later, it broke down again on the 'interstate'. This time a real tow truck came and actually lifted us up onto the bed and drove us back to Prague while we were still in the car! I was ecstatic! What a rush to test the boundaries of law, let alone the push the envelope of the very facric of physics. I fulilled a boyhood dream that day.

So I went to Rome in November with my uncle from Chicago and let me tell you that its a great place, except for all the other people there. I went to the Sistene Chapel and all I could hear were security guards yelling "No Pictures!" Kinda ruins the experience. The question I asked most when I was visiting the Vatican was: "Where did the money come from?"

In December I went to Vienna to ball..er I mean visit Chris McCarthy's sister. Now THAT is a beautiful city. Beautiful white marble errwhere and the Christmas markets put Prague's to shame, in my opinion. But I think Prague's got em beat on nightlife, cost of living, and overall Matt Lyon Merit.

Ok I think that's it for now. I so wish I could be in Chicago for New Years. Its going to go down in Barrel history as THE New Years Bash. I just know it. Dom, I hope you're preparing adequately: rented Port o potties, stolen mattresses, bribed police, and of course lots of vegetable oil. Wish you were here. Wish I was there. Love always. Matthew.