Nothing to Write Home About.

So here we are.

Almost two full years since departing Ireland with a lump in the throat.

Nearly 24 whole months spent in a country that became home, as much in a negative as a positive sense..

Just shy of 105 weeks sampling soju, resisting Kimchi, reviling rice cakes and being mercilessly shoved, bustled, bumped into, blocked and pushed aside in Korean subway stations and streets.

So that's roughly 730 days that I'd love to tell you all were filled with adventure, wonder, exploration and good times but for the most part were filled with monotony, boredom, bewilderment, too much drinking, bitterness and complaining and not enough common sense.

It certainly didn't pan out as I had hoped or even as I had planned. But I guess things seldom do. It was certainly different and despite that rather spiteful introduction I've written, it wasn't all so bad. There was the 2011 Ulsan Cup victory as well as other Devils memories, two great holidays, Ken's visit, some cracking nights out and other simpler times that can be appreciated too.

I write this final blog post only after being informed by my (vastly more talented) brother via Twitter that I was 'Letting down my public'. I'm not sure how true that is or how much of a public even exists, but I promised him one final foray into the world of blogging before leaving it in the far more capable hands of a 'lithe dilettante' such as himself.

So, "why the absence of posts?" I hear no one ask. Truth of the matter is that as the title suggests, there really has been little to write home about. At the beginning all was new and everything seemed worth informing people of. As time passed by I felt I had little to say and little insight to offer into life in Korea, my last post being a pretty poor attempt at a humorous poem ridiculing the kind of person you're likely to meet teaching out here. It could have become a diary of my footballing exploits at one point but I thought better of it....it would have been a depressing and disappointing read. What little travel I did in Korea would usually just confirm my assumptions- the place, as a country is Monotone. Everywhere is the same and everywhere is quite boring. Sure, there are fun things to do, but why spend money doing em in Korea when I could save my money, travel and do them in beautiful countries?
And just as an aside, all that shit we heard of the Koreans being the nicest, most polite people in the world before we came here- bullshit. As a whole, arguably the rudest. Some of em are absolutely lovely. As a society, not so much...I don't know where that 'gentle, polite' crap comes from but its not true...crime is incredibly low though and you are able to just about completely drop your guard. Give me more crime and less arrogance any day though, I can take the odd mugging if the people aren't so blindly patriotic and full of themselves.

I jest of course ;) ( a little...)

So what I offer you here, in my final post are some stories that I have collected during my time in Kimchi Land which I hope you might find humorous. I've met a colourful array of characters here who have imparted a wide variety of tales to me and I'm sure to many others. So, for your pleasure, here are some of the stories I've deemed the most entertaining in my time here. A mere snapshot.

I guess I'll start off with my own then move to the good shit. This goes by the title of:

Careful Men, He Shits His Pants

One Thursday morning, after going all out Wednesday night with reckless abandon, I was left talking to God on the big white telephone. The previous nights exultations of 'fuck it sure, we'll be grand' and 'one more game of beer pong won't hurt' gradually gave way to drunken yet mildly concerned inquiries of 'what's the time now?' The following morning there was little love for life going on in Casa de Chingu (House of Friends- my apartment) as I grumbled and stumbled my way through a rushed morning routine. On the subway into work I turned to Ro and said "I think i'm gonna be sick mate." His reply came alarmed and wide-eyed, managing to just about drag his normally unfaltering gaze away from his iPad where he enjoyed whiling away the subway journeys (and a good chunk of his other free time) "killing Jews" as he put it,  "well don't do it on here!" I hadn't the energy to get off, run to the bathroom, get sick and come back to the subway so I said unconvincingly "I'll be fine." Ro looked unconvinced and shuffled cautiously away from me. Having heard my heavings on previous rough mornings, he knew very well of what sort of grimness a 'Roch Wretch' could produce. He occupied himself with the tasks of "collecting purple Goo and Killing Jews" (thats honestly his description of what he does on the iPad..some nerdy game or something...he also has one where he "pets dinosaurs"). I made it to school without vomiting anyway.

 I got to my desk, lay my head down and slept for the 20 minutes I had before class. I was rudely awoken by my co-teacher to teach 4 classes worth of hyper-active third graders. I groaned and lurched out of my seat. The way the class was set, I was teaching the first 20 minutes and my co-teacher the last 20. I managed to struggle through my 20 when pretty much instantly my stomach turned full of the coffee I'd knocked back an hour and a half ago in a feeble attempt to wake myself up. I ran to the bathroom across the hall and proceeded to vomit rich smelling coffee (Ah, Kirklands finest aromatic roasted beans from Colombia- is there a better cup of brewed coffee? If there is, I haven't tasted it) right down the sink. I felt like a piece of shit....those poor kids- with me as their teacher they never had a chance. As I exited the toilet, the Principal happened to be walking by on her morning rounds...I can only imagine what she thought of me but luckily she has no English to admonish me with, I did discern some sort of grunt coming from her though. I got through the rest of the classes having only to leave to get sick one more time- right down the sink again, no way I'm getting on my knees and heaving down a squatter, I don't even shit in them anymore unless absolutely stranded with no other option. Once the classes were over, it was lunch time. I'd  made no lunch that day due to being fucked that morning and I still felt like shit so in a moment of brazenness I strode straight out of the classroom and out the front gates. I got on the subway and went home, over 4 hours earlier than I was supposed to.

I hoped to get away with it but of all the luck a co-teacher had been looking for me because there was a document I was supposed to sign (of all fucking days!!) As I languished on the couch, full of Tylenol and Dominoes, watching cartoons my phone began ringing. So they were onto me, huh? I ignored the phone and satisfied myself with the thought that I'd figure it out tomorrow.

Fuck! It was tomorrow and I hadn't really figured anything out.....

On the subway into school the next day my brain raced attempting to come up with an excuse for my absence which was guaranteed to work. Turns out these Koreans didn't count on how little self-respect I happen to have for myself or my image, professionally or personally. So I degraded myself and informed them that I'd shit myself in school, had been too embarrassed to tell anyone and the smell too overwhelming to ignore, I'd gone home in shame. This of course wasn't true, although there have been times where such an outcome hasn't been far off and last year I did actually shit myself lying on the bed while hungover on the weekend, but now my co-workers must see me as that pathetic Irish man who often comes in hungover, stinking of cigarettes and one time shat his pants at his desk. Well...I hope it didn't count too badly towards me in my final evaluation- "Decent worker but personal hygiene and control of bowel movements leave some to be desired"

The next tale comes courtesy of one of the English boys who arrived last year and joined the Devils. He told me this story last week, it is called:

Indian Samosa 

This lads school has something called English Club which is basically after school English classes for 1st and 2nd graders- kids aged between 5-8 I think. He doesn't teach them, they get in outside teachers but his office happens to be in the classroom, separated by some thin walls. He can see the class going on through a window but says he usually puts his headphones in and ignores them. These English Clubs are pretty common, theres one in my school but in a completely separate classroom to mine.

On this particular day, he was surprised to see an Indian man enter the classroom as opposed to the usual combo of a Korean and possibly a white foreigner. He didn't think too much of it and left his headphones in. His interest was soon piqued however when this man calmly strode up to the front of the classroom, silently penned the words 'Indian Samosa' on the whiteboard and then sat at the desk. The words would remain there in a shroud of mystery for the rest of the class.

So, this seeming a little odd, our Hero (how I'll refer to the English lad from now on) decided he'd turn his music down and keep an eye on this class, just in case. Eventually a Korean teacher joined the classroom and gave the go ahead for our Indian friend to start.
Now something you must be acutely aware of when teaching kids in Korea is that you gotta speak slowly, clearly, pronounce words deliberately and use simple language, even change your accent if needs be. Well no one told old Indian Samosa this. He dived right in speaking at rapid-fire pace asking the kids "Howare youtoday" in a thick, incomprehensible Indian accent. He went on to tell them he would show them a video about where he was from. The kids looked on, some baffled, others frightened. An amused smile began to form on Our Hero's face and laughter had to be stifled as confusion and misunderstanding reigned supreme within the classroom.

Indian Samosa started his video presentation. It went into great detail about India and Indian culture. It was quite good according to our hero. It had subtitles- but they were in BLOODY English! Words such as amalgamation and conglomeration accompanied the spoken script but it all meant little to our confused little friends from The Land of The Morning Calm. Our Hero even confessed to "not havin' a fuckin clue what some of it meant" By this stage, Our Hero is constantly stifling laughter and has one headphone out.

The video ends and Indian Samosa immediately enquires "Didjulikedavideo?" The kids stare back blankly. He repeats the question a few times, with little help coming from the Korean teacher in the room, before giving up the fight. Slightly dejected, he then presents the class with some- get this- Indian Samosas and Lassi which the kids are pretty happy with. The shroud of mystery finally evaporates from the Whiteboard. As they munch and imbibe, he decides to have one last go. "DoesanybotyknowanytingaboutIndia?" he asks. To Our Hero's amazement, a young lad from second grade raises his hand. Our Hero now takes out both headphones, fascinated to see what this young lad could possibly contribute to an understanding of India and its culture through a language not his mother tongue. Old Indian Samosa looks as delighted as a dog with two dicks, "yes, go on, what do you know about India?", a glisten re-emerging in his eye which hasn't been seen since he initially strode up to the board and confidently penned them two fateful words. The kid stands up, mouth full of Samosa and exclaims, while patting his outstretched palm over his mouth: "India! Waw-waw-waw-waw-waw-waw-waw", in the way you may imitate a Native American as an uneducated, insensitive kid...like this:

To which the Korean teacher replies "Yes, yes, Indian- Waw-waw-waw-waw-waw" and before you know it there is a classroom full of Korean kids full of Samosas and Lassi, led by their teacher doing a rather offensive Native American impression in an attempt to show a now crestfallen and dejected Indian Samosa what they know about India. He slumped in his seat and watched them eat Samosas for the rest of the class. Jesus wept. Indian Samosa.

The next tale again comes courtesy of one of the lads from last Summers intake. This one is about a poor auld chap whose tale of misfortune I think is unparalleled in shittiness for what I've heard people have to put up with here. So, without further ado allow me to introduce:

Trailer Park Boy

So this lad arrived in Korea in the Summer of 2012. Much like many others he was filled with hope as he arrived at the EPIK orientation in Jeonju. Before long he had met a group of similarly minded lads. They enjoyed their football, their golf, their cricket, a good fry up washed down with a proper strong brew and they of course weren't shy of the booze every now and then. They were English and the group of them formed as naturally as the Cliffs of Dover themselves.

What became clear as the 9 days of orientation passed however was that all of this guys new friends were headed for the bright lights of Daegu city. Contrastingly, he was headed to the rural surroundings of Ulseong- a 2 hour bus journey away. The Daegu lads had heard tell of a football team by the name of the Devils in their city....full of Irish and Canadians, these boys were determined to turn that team English for the first time in its history (which they well and truly did a midst the appointment of quintessential Englishman Roland Jones as manager and an exodus of veterans from Canada and Ireland). He envied the Daegu boys but tried to stay positive. Rural Korea. Beautiful countryside? Perhaps a bigger place to live as a reward for his having to be in the back arse of nowhere. Poor lad. Poor, naive, wide-eyed young lad.

So he arrived in Ulseong to the news that he would be teaching at a number of schools dotted around his area, pretty standard practice for an EPIK teacher in the countryside. What wasn't particularly standard practice was living in what Rob described as a kind of larger "Garden Shed" and what we later supposed was most befitting of the description "The Trailer". I've heard of teachers in the country being given houses rather than apartments, a perk of the country over the city. This lad got a fuckin' trailer. He took it on the chin however and embraced the countryside, venturing to the mean streets of Daegu on weekends and eventually joining the famed Daegu Devils and becoming one of their most valued players, having the best debut season seen since the lad in the previous story the season before. Very good footballers these lads.

Soon the Winter came to Korea and for our young protagonist it would truly be a Winter of Discontent. The trailer seemed to lack heating facilities or at least any that functioned. Before long he found himself having to say something to his school as his nights began to consist of wrapping himself in the contents of his wardrobe, all the blankets he could find and gripping a cup of hot tea as hard as he could. His breath would still be visible. The schools solution was an electric heater but unfortunately, his pipes had frozen as well as the actual fucking water in his toilet bowl. He informed his school when they came to check his heating problem. Their solution: Shit in a bag. 

That's right. A man who came here to try to teach the impoverished rural children of Korea some valuable English, hoping to be well-treated and well-respected as a teacher was now stood in a trailer, in the middle of nowhere, with no heat and was being told if he had to shit, he best do it in a plastic bag and throw it outside. The kind of treatment Mark Corrigan would truly balk at. To say he had expected a little better would be putting it mildly.

But as the weather improved, inevitably so did his spirits and he agreed to stay a 2nd year (can you believe that? I'da been gone the second they asked me to shit in a bag!?!?!?!). He gets to move to Gumi for year 2...which is no big city but its certainly not the back arse of nowhere...a middle ground I guess.

He will be a trailer park boy no more.

I've fairly rambled with them stories so I think I can leave it there guys, hope you enjoyed. The stories I'm sure are much more enjoyable when you know the lads and they are being told by those in question, but still. I shall leave you with some pearls of wisdom I have acquired from one of the veteran Devils. He's quite a character, been in Korea around a decade, still playing football at 40. This quick story sums him up. He married in Korea to a girl he'd known in high school but hadn't seen in a while. On the day of the wedding, he hopped on his scooter outside the Registry Office after the ceremony, telling his newly wed wife he "had a private, see ya later". 6 months passed and it wasn't for him. He went to file for divorce. The clerk told him he had never been married cos he had never given in one of the required documents. "Perfect", he said, "even better." And once more he hopped on his scooter. Here are some choice quotes from the man himself.

"Ya gotta have goals man. Ya gotta have three goals. Ya gotta have a money goal, a career goal and a pussy goal man!"

"OK, don't keep the ball too long, just win it and give it to one of the skill players, like me."

Talking of a new centre back on the team who had impressed us all in his first few games: "Yeah he's good...but he's gotta pass me the ball more man" "Mikey...he's a centre back- you're right wing..."

"Going to see the family this summer Mikey?" "*(sighing)* Yeeaaaah" "Well, don't sound too excited" "Family's overrated"

"Yeah, I've a girl now. She's fat. I tell her she's fat."

"I say 'No ice-cream for you' I can have ice-cream, she's gotta eat a salad, she doesn't need ice-cream"

"Yeah, she wanted to come out last week but she's too fat to come out. I don't want her mixing with you guys"

About a guy with a Northern Irish accent: "Is that even English he's speaking? How is he an English teacher man?"

"Ya gotta make good decisions in Thailand man. I've seen people make bad decisions here, myself included"

"G was making bad decisions over there man."

In Thailand on a combination of substances: "Playing shithead? Let me play. I played this with him last week- I never lost, I NEVER LOST!" 5 minutes later: "I can't play this shit, I can't even see the fuckin cards"

"Ya know what you're gettin with a hooker."

And that, my scrotes, is all she wrote.

I'll see some of y'all soon, some of you I won't see soon enough but I certainly hope I see yis all again.

Keep her lit.

Indian Samosa.

How Many Idiots Does it Take to Teach in Korea?

Alright scrotes. (Off to Vietnam in a bit to see Bryan but before that, enjoy this wee musing on Korean life)

Twas the day before Chuseok, Teachers desks had been warmed,
Requests to leave early had been wrathfully scorned.
So sat at his desk like a dog with two dicks,
(But sadly with no one to fondle those pricks)
Mark Teacher began to imagine a poem
To send to his family and friends back at home.

He thought of the people he'd met over here,
Who ranged from the sound to incredibly queer.
And of course I mean queer in the strange kind of way-
Seinfeld has taught me that its fine to be gay.
But now time to get ourselves back on track
To the teachers in Korea and all that they lack.

Stupidity abounds like clockwork each day,
On facebook where people don't think but just say.
For groups are devoted to discuss Daegu living
But the questions they ask just can't be forgiven.
Now I must warn what you're about to hear
Are genuine queries from some folks who are here.
I rhymed hear with here and feel I should explain,
That times running out and I must soon catch my plane.

"Where can I buy X video game?"
This country and yours you'll find are the same.
"Where can I get my hair cut just right?"
Show them a picture and you'll be alright.
"Can someone tell me where to buy tampons?" you say
It makes it no better they're for your fiancée.
"Where do I find this bus or that train?"
Don't make me refer you to google again.
"Please explain the difference between 'will' and 'going to'"
If you're going to be thick then I will punch you.

"Do any English speakers sell contact lenses?"
You need numbers not English, please come to your senses.
"Do I have to give gifts to my teachers today?"
Do if ya want, or don't, either way.
And the worst one of all I'll save for the end,
The lack of good sense I could not comprehend,
When yesterday when clearly the King of The Tards,
Enquired where one could buy a deck of cards.

Are these people unable to fend for themselves?
For I've seen many cards on many shops shelves.
For the simplest thing you'll find they inquire,
With no sense of sarcasm, wit or satire.
If one didn't laugh, one would get depressed
But I've found a few friends so fuck all the rest.


Hope y'all enjoyed. Peace. Happ Chuseok.

This Things I Believe.

Hello Chingus!

It's been a long time since this blog saw any action so I thought I best give it a good and thorough seeing to seen as Year Dos has now began in Korea. I've had the extraordinary privilege of seeing most if not all your beautiful faces back home quite recently, indeed the salty remnants of  those goodbye tears you all shed I'm sure still remain on your cheeks. Alas, such is life. So it goes.

So I thought I'd keep this blog post good and simple, like my brain. As most of you gathered from my musings on Korea while back in the Emerald Isle (and its hotter older sister Denmark) all is not always rosy in these parts. That's not to say "I hate it" as I found out my Dad told Maireads family at the airport. There are good points to the place, there are bad points. The people I (and most other teachers here) find a little odd and Korean customs can range from the mildly amusing to the downright baffling. All this before you even begin to consider the type of character who typically applies to be a teacher here AND before adding a whole host of Muscle Bound Meat Head Military Freaks and their stank ass Ho's. So, without further ado, in a swift and fleeting manner I will know attempt to recount to you some of the things I've learned and discovered here over the past 13 months or so- my observations on the goings on around me in humble little Daegu if you will.

So, this things I believe:

1. Irish people really are everywhere, really are drawn to each other and are generally better craic than most people.
2. Staying with nationalities, (excluding inevitable deviations here and there), the soundest nationalities among a large expat community are as follows: Canadian, Irish, English/Scottish/Welsh. On the other end of the spectrum, I (and many others) have found it to be generally true that the biggest head melters/weirdos/arseholes are: Americans, South Africans. Get Out.
3. Football will keep any football loving boy sane, no matter where he is.
4. A lack of recreational drugs leads to borderline alcoholism among many who before didn't drink a huge amount.
5. Korean people are 'wank walkers' to quote a roommate of mine. From diagonal street crossing to head simultaneously inside both phone and arse to standing on every and all escalators in a clammered bunch so as to impede anyone who may actually, you know, want to also use their legs while on the escalator.....in general, they seem to have taken a misstep with this oh so simplest of human tasks. So it goes.
6. Korean people don't question authority to a worrying level. They collectively believe in the preposterous 'Fan Death', they have a set date where heating/Air-Con go on/off and will not waver from them and my Co-Teacher gets permission from my Vice Principal if I want to nip out to the shop.....??? Without wanting to sound too racist, I find it little wonder that it is people of Korean nationality who are currently living in the most oppressive/backward/brainwashed country in the world. The propensity for questioning authority does not compute in general.
7. Korean taxi's are cheap as fuck and that is amazing.
8. Koreans need to travel abroad more.
9. A lot of people who are going to Korea to teach are weiners. They had no life at home and they hope that maybe somehow they will have one here. Generally they congregate together and they do have somewhat of a life, so whatever, fair play to them, just don't talk to me.
10. Kimchi is better cooked than cold.
11. Korean food can staaaaaaaannnnnnnnnk.
12. Korean food can be ridiculously good and ridiculously cheap when it wants to be. Just gotta up the general standard and drop the war diet.
13. Korean sweat has a distinctively different smell to Western sweat. I've heard they say we smell like dairy. Better dairy than shit mate.
14. London slang can be incredibly fun to use e.g. Cotch- relax, as in to cotch on the couch, to go for a cotch.
15. Sitting at a desk for half the day will make you comment, like and post on facebook to a degree where it seems you have no life. And you don't.
16. Couples dressing may be the gayest heterosexual thing I will ever see.
17. Squatters are grim.
18. Kids are annoying.
19. I am not meant to teach kids this age for a living  .
20. Not even a McDonalds delivery service will motivate me to learn Korean.
21. Korean people are not good at respecting a queue and in general the older they are the worse they will be.
22. Living in an apartment which has 2 Xbox's, 2 Wii's and a PS3 makes you feel like a proper Jedi.
23. Being far away from family and friends can really suck balls.
24. Making new and genuine friends from different parts of the world is Super Cris.
25. Beer Pong is a game of Kings.
26. A deck of cards is an essential companion to any night out.
27. Korean beer is wank.
28. So are Korean bar snacks.
29. I din't think it was possible to get Pizza so wrong until I came to Korea.
30. Some Koreans aren't even aware there are web browsers other than Internet Explorer. This results in god awful websites near to impossible to navigate.
31. Koreans can be very stubborn when they think they are right and everyone else wrong.
32. The bad Asian driver stereotype is completely true (at least in the case of Koreans).
33. 4.30 a.m. is too late to stay up for football with work the next day, even if it is the Champions League.
34. Scrubbing a bathroom floor on your hands and knees for the first time will give you a new found respect for your Mother that you should have had all along.
35. There is good and bad everywhere.
36. Life's too short to bitch and moan, you should just enjoy it.

There might be more, there probably is but the last two are the most important anyway and kinda cancel out the previous 34 anyway. Making this post largely irrelevant. I apologise profusely for wasting your time.

Peace out Chingus!

Stay safe and as a wise man once said:

EXPERIENCE LIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Better Friday.

Alright scrotes!

Well, I only just realised its Good Friday now. I'm calling it Better Friday over here cos we can buy booze....sure I coulda got a nice cold Asahi from the 7-11 for the walk to school this morning, continued with a sneaky soju at lunchtime and topped it off with a bottle of Maekgoli on the walk home. After that, the evening will undoubtedly take a turn for the blurry as countless Hay-Z's (Hazelnut beers- they taste awful) are consumed at Thursday party downtown after a Fifa sesh and some dinner. It's weird being away from the Thursday-before-Good-Friday stockpiling but I write this blog only to announce my imminent return and to say Happy Bunny Day. I'm pretty much confirmed for a visit home from August 1st- 24th so free up the dates in your calendar.

That's really all for now apart from the REAL reason I wrote this blog. Check this creepy ass (but hilarious) shit: http://www.happyplace.com/15235/the-creepiest-easter-bunny-photos-ever-taken/page/1

Smell ya later.

The Tuite man Cometh (and other excursions)

Alright Scrotes, Romans, C(o)untrymen.

We all knew this blog would be ridiculously infrequent so I'll just bypass the part where I pretend I meant to keep it up to date, fill you in on so much about Korea etc. etc. Well I guess I fail on bypassing it now and have in fact drawn even more attention to it through my fumbling ad clunky prologue.

Fact of the matter is Korea/Korean life has recently become at best mildly entertaining if monotonous and at worst downright infuriating. Cold as well. It was darn cold, but its picking up a bit I guess. Raining on Paddy's day though- load of me tits.

Anyway, as I said we've well and truly hit the hum-drum stage of life over here. Things are no longer new and exciting, more often than not they're bland and boring....still, I'll fill in from our vacation (HOLIDAY! I've started using words such as 'vacation', 'soccer', 'store', 'sidewalk' due to their prevalence in the spoken English in many of the people here- for shame. So yis have that to look forward to when I come home in addition to the fact that teaching elementary school kids here has attacked my own vocabulary and proficiency in the English language exponentially....look at me, desperately tryin to use big words in a feeble attempt to convince myself my English hasn't gone to pot, but it has...oh it has....sentences usually kinda crawl slowly out of my mouth like a not yet ripened turd that you brazenly attempted to pass too early)....well, I love to sidetrack myself....so, yeah- The Philippines, we went on holiday there. I'm not gonna bother peppering the blog post with pictures of our adventures cos they're all on facebook anyway and I'm sure most of you've seen em/can see them, Bryan- you're just gonna have to buck up and join the cool kids if ya wanna see them, here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150560643769146.398575.848709145&type=3

PT I: The Philippines.

So in mid-January, we set off for the Philippines. I insisted on leaving for the airport at a ridiculous hour to ensure we made it there on time, my faith in Mairead's ability to be on time ever dwindling over the passing months. We left from Busan airport and arrived in Cebu....long story short, we were sans money and extremely tired...it was in the wee hours...we got ripped off exchanging our remaining korean won to filipino peso and proceeded to bend over and get buggered by the nearest taxi driver who was willing. This fucker took us to our hotel, proceeded to tell us it was not in a good location and looked like a 'haunted hotel' (it actually did, we completely agreed with him, it was isolated, dark and creepy)...we agreed to let him bring us to Cebu city for a place to stay. Along the drive he informs us of a festival on at the moment Sinulog- so essentially, a festival that will ensure that all city accommodations are booked out? Why, of course! What a dick, he drove us round on an all night wild goose chase for new accomodation, culminating with us returning to the haunted hotel. I'd never been more tired in my life and acquiesced to his ridiculous requests for money- we gave him ALL we had transferred in the airport- the cheeky fucker wanted more, I (half-jokingly) told him I had 3,000 korean won (2 euro) in my pocket if he wanted that.....yep, he did. He wanted it. Fucking shithead. Anyway, I was so exhausted I could barely stand still or sign my name on the hotel receipt. We collapsed into bed in the haunted hotel.

So we stayed there and it wasn't so bad. We explored Cebu a bit, found a nice pub called Magellans, experienced the city centre and its fireworks for Sinulog. At one point in downtown Cebu before the fireworks show I was dying for a piss so I headed for the nearest alcohol dispensary. I was greeted at the door by a midget in a jesters outfit- Mairead pleaded me not to go in but I was busting! I ignored the bizarre burlesque surroundings and the cries of "oh, hello Big Senor" from the many (possibly transvestite) hookers inside the place. As I pissed the toilet attendant began chatting to me...I think he called me Big Senor as well. As I went to wash my hands he continued bigging me up then began MASSAGING MY SHOULDERS?!?! ok, this was too weird, I told him 'no thanks, no ladies, just pissing' and I got the hell outta there. Mairead was waiting outside the toilet door. When we went to leave the midget and the scantily clad ladies were blocking it looking at the fireworks, I sheepishly tried to get by and the midget duly parted the sea of hookers for us.

So we decided to leave the madness of Cebu and head to the more secluded island of Bohol. That was the part of the trip for seeing sights. We went on a river cruise, went ziplining(fucking cool), dolphin watching, saw the chocolate hills and some Tarsiers (smallest monkeys in the world, native to the philippines, BIG eyes). We hit a snag when Mairead got one of the worst sunburns I've ever seen. She fell asleep in the sun sans cream, the only time she stirred was to turn onto her back to give that a good aul scorching as well. As we left the beach she was white as a sheet and getting sick...the next few days weren't too pleasant for her but thankfully the burn was abating somewhat by the time we headed to party central Boracay.

Boracay was rated 2nd best beach in asia, only behind Bali. I was underwhelmed to be honest...not sure what I expected...maybe magical sand particles that don't stick to ye or something...but it was pretty nice anyway. We were there for a good solid week or so and all there was to do was eat and drink (which we did in abundance, the food was a welcome change from the muck ya get in Korea). We did go zorbing though which was fun, and parasailing which was kinda boring, although livened up by Mairead getting sick down into the sea from the parasail. We spent a fuckload of money but to hell with it, you're only young once, eh? We also stayed at a place called 'Faith Village Resort' on Boracay....it was kinda weird and was primarily intended for those seeking spiritual renewal...we used the room mainly for drinking and smoking....

So returning from holidays was depressing as fuck. It was cold and miserable in Daegu and we were expected to come to school to deskwarm despite the absence of any work for us to do. I was deskwarming from early January to just this Monday gone...in between there was 1 week I had to teach a little. Its not so bad once your in school, you can read, watch something, listen to music, even sleep, but I was incredibly irked by the fact that I was expected to get up out of bed at 8 a.m to walk in the freezing cold, just to sit on my arse for 8 hours....some days I got away with sneaking home at lunch, another day I got 'politely' told not to be late again cos I showed up at 9 and not 8.30?!?! keep in mind- I hadn't a bit of work to do and hadn't been late at all (early if anything) while teaching....it would get to you but it could be a lot worse. Latest we're hearing is they may not give us our extra time to go home this summer and will try move it to winter. If my school does that I won't be staying a 2nd year unless I find a different job with no desk warming.

To brighten up the drudgery of deskwarming however, we were treated to the delightful company of one Kenneth Tuite in late February/Early March. I managed to get off early the Friday Ken was arriving. I headed up to Seoul as early as I could to meet him at the hostel we'd booked. It was kind of surreal opening the door to the hostel room to find Ken lying there. Ken's bags hadn't made it with him from China due to complications with connection flights, my spirit was beginning to be crushed by the incessant and pointless deskwarming so we shared a rather exasperated embrace (touched willies and all). We shot the shit for a while then explored the area a little. We experienced some of the fine cuisine the Hogik University area of Seoul had to offer before Mairead arrived (kebab, Taco Bell, Burger King. seriously, Korean food- fuck off!)

The next day we were going on the DMZ tour so we took it handy enough. Next morning we struggle out of bed to make it to Camp Kim to embark on our tour of the Demilitarized Zone between North and South Korea. The tour was a surreal experience and a must for anyone who visits Korea. I was actually impressed by it and I'm impressed by nothing here. We visited a tunnel the north had been digging to the south, an observing point where you could look into the north with binoculars (abandoned highways, empty villages, lone soldiers on watch- creepy), a fully built and functional but empty train station that they hope will be operational one day as a connection between north and south and a gateway for Korea to China, Russia, Europe by railroad. Finally we entered the actual DMZ. We were in the negotiation rooms used by the two during armistice talks, literally on the border and we went to an excellent vantage point to see 'Freedom Village' or maybe it was 'Propaganda Village', I forget where you could see into North Koreas 'staged' village full of empty houses with painted on windows.

That night we went out and got wrecked. Was good but my memory is hazy, as is often the case with me on nights here. When I hit the bottle, I hit it hard and the bars stay open till all hours so black outs are frequent.

After that we brought Ken up to Daegu. While there I introduced him to the comfort food delights on offer at The Holy Grill (run by a Canadian, serves great slap up Western meals), he later reciprocated by buying me and Mairead dinner there on his last night- loverly fella. We brought him to a DVD Room- essentially, your own private cinema room; big projection screen, you pick a movie and the room is yours...although there are always tissues in the rooms and we believe it is a popular spot for the young korean folk to get their 'freak on' as the kids say...still, I'd wallow in jizz for my own private cinema. He also experienced the delights of the Playstation centre....a load of playstations, a lot of koreans playing pro evo old/new versions and one group of Waygooks (us) playing the new Fifa! Ken contributed to me and him claiming victory in the tournament that night and I've missed his partnership since he's left. We went on a wild one in Daegu after that, allowing Ken to sample some of the many boozy delights downtown. That weekend we hit Busan, although Ken's hangover saturday morning strongly disagreed with going. We got there eventually and had a sweet ass hostel which was essebntially our own private swanky high rise apartment for the night. We arrived late so all we did saturday was go out again, another hazy night for yours truly but I remember a creepy, odd Korean drunk at the bar who had a weird deformed hand which seemed to amount to one Giant finger...I just did my best not to look or get sick when he shook my hand.

The next day the rain was pissing and the wind howling but we managed to get Ken to a temple (they're all the fuckin same- boring as fuck) anyway, spose ya gotta see one when you're here. We also went to a traditional fish market which had been talked up way too much by one of the lads dads while he was visiting here. Was just a loada fish on sale, quite smelly. You could buy it and have it cooked in the restaurant upstairs. We just went for a set menu upstairs. Wasn't great. Not as good as a Maccy D's anyway.

So before Ken went back to Seoul he hung out in Daegu and we mostly played fifa, just like back home. It was great. A little (or large, if you will) slice of home for a week or so. Thoroughly missing the man since his departure and wish I coulda joined him in China to see Bryan.

Well, perhaps Bryan will continue the adventures of Kenneth Tuite in Asia in the China Monologues. For now, its Friday, almost half 4 and that means quitting time! Gonna go home, crack a can and look forward to a wild, black out Paddy's (definitely not paTTy's) Day in Busan!

Peace out Scrotes.

Kaw-Liss-Ah-Miss-Ugh! and New Years Skiing.

Alright scrotes.

Long time no blog. but put away your hankies yis fairies. Your hero has returned to fill ya in on his Kaw-Liss-Ah-Miss-Ugh (christmas) and New Years antics.

So things have been fairly quiet and normal over here so not much to report but Christmas and New Years were good.

For Christmas Myself, Mairead and fifteen of our friends rented a house in the mountains just outside Daegu called Palgonsan. It was a nice idea and I'm glad we went cos just another night out in Downtown Daegu on Christmas may have been a bit depressing as Christmas away from home was already depressing in itself.

So on xmas eve (interesting tidbit- xmas is not 'sacrilegious' or an attempt to take the christ out of christmas but rather derives from the Greek letter 'chi' which was represented by an X. See, my blogs can be both informative AND boring.) we rose early and met everybody at an Emart (big shop ala tesco etc.) in what I want to say was northern Daegu....I haven't accustomed myself to the city I live in the way I should. So anyway, the West Side Massive which consisted of Me, Mairead and our friend Jem who lives nearby arrived to be greeted by a mountain of booze and food that had already been purchased while also being informed there was still more being bought inside. We went in and got our own booze, bumping into our mates along the way and fuck me, there was a lot of food. Canadian Jon didn't seem impressed, inquiring "Are we seriously gonna go through this huge fawcken tube of chilli powder in two days?"....I tended to agree, it looked a lot. But there was a lot of us. We somehow piled our boxes of food and booze and our 17 bodies in 4 taxis and headed to the mountains.

The journey wasn't too long and we soon were mountainside. We waited while our Korean friend MJ found out exactly where the house was. She was told 'behind the restaurant'. We were standing right outside a restaurant so she instructed us to walk round the back. We all struggled to pick up as much luggage/food/booze we could and trudged away. We went round the back of the restaurant, did a nice little circle were a bag mairead was carrying burst and found ourselves back in the exact same spot we'd started at a minute before. Already people were wheezing. Shit was heavy. Turned out there was another restaurant up a little slope. So we trudged on up there. Bit of a struggle but we made it. The house was sweet, 2 bedrooms, nice big HD TV, decent kitchen area, BBQ etc. The jacks was a little weird....1 urinal, two stalls...I was instantly worried about walk ins mid dump but I tried to put it to the back of my mind (the nagging of the thought never really left me the whole weekend truth be told, leaving me rather soured.).

We went about packing away food/booze and decorating the house a wee bit. I had been made 'Entertainement Director' due to the fact I had my media player. I hooked it up but it was in black and white. Our korean friends asked staff could they help change the TV settings. This struggle went on for a while until I realised I had to change the setting on my harddrive. Felt like a dope but hey, now we had a good selection of xmas movies and tv specials in colour. I'd downloaded a fuckload of xmas music but most of it had mysteriously disappeared so we repeated the same xmas tracklist all weekend. People weren't impressed I'd excluded Mariah Carey but I couldn't give a shit- I'm sick of her and that stupid song.

So we settled down to some xmas entertainemnt and drinks while master chef extraordinaire Gareth Mohammed worked his magic in the kitchen, helped intermittently by different people. Gaz was definitely the hero of the weekend. He cooked the best Fajitas I've ever had for xmas eve dinner and orchestrated a whopper xmas day dinner too. much props.

We did a secret santa and exchanged presents. I got a calendar and a giant alarm clock. Mairead has used em more than me. I had Gaz and got him I, Partridge which he loved.

After we ate we indulged in Boys Vs. Girls charades. I think we got around 10 or so in a row and usually within a few seconds. The game was intense. Accusations and insults were being bandied about the room like they were going out of fashion, tempers flared, bellicosity was unleashed. I think we won the game. It was great craic altogether.

There was a noraebang (korean karaoke room) in the restaurant down the hill so we headed there for shits and giggles. It was good. I chose to do a rendition of 'Without Me' by Eminem. My flow (and memory of the lyrics) were seriously hampered by alcohol and so it wasn't very good. Me and Gaz did do 'If you don't know me by now' inspired by David Brent earlier in the day. We headed back to the house and eventually slept.

Xmas morning was a little rough to begin with but we all gradually got into the swing of it. A hearty breakfast and some more entertainment got us up and at em again. We went for an xmas day walk where two people who were playing with these dogs at a nearby shop stepped in the dogs' shit which was fucking hilarious.

We went back to the house, had dinner which was amazing then chilled out and watched L.A. Confidential which was also very good. We went home on xmas day evening, all pretty depressed at the prospect of school and winter camps the next morning. Ah well....

Chrimbo Dinner:

I completed my English Winter Camp at my school the following Friday and straight after me and Mairead headed on a train to Seoul to stay the night. We were going on a skiing weekend with some of the same people from Xmas and had to get a bus from seoul to go further north at 7.30 a.m. on the saturday. This was the first time I'd been to Seoul but saw nothing as it was just a stop off for skiing.

So me and Mairead only woke up at 7.30 on the saturday and had to race to get our bus. luckily it hadnt left and we werent the last ones to arrive so didnt feel too bad. The journey further north wasn't too bad. We picked up our ski gear at a rental shop and headed for the slopes. We began with a beginners lesson which is where the comedy began. I happened to be standing right next to the instructor so she sent me down the small learners slope first. She told me how to stop and I thought I'd understood. I gave myself a wee push off, didn't fall, didn't stumble, felt ok. Pumped up by our friend Jennie's shout of "go on mark" as I went by her, I gave myself a proper push off, gaining speed. My inner monologue at this point musta ran something like Jez from Peep Show so I'll explain the ordeal that way, as an inner monologue.

"Fuck it, I'm gonna go for it. Yeah. This is one of them things where I'm just a natural at it, I pick it up first time and I'm amazing. Fuck it, I'll go faster. Now to stop. Hmmm, that's not really working....maybe if I...no....Ohhhh fuuuuuuccckkkk...there's so many kids walking by down there. Can;t smash into a kid. Shit, just missed one. There's a pole, I'll use that to stop myself" CRASH! into the pole, one ski flew off me. Korean family nearby looked a little distressed/concerned. I trudged back up the hill. People (especially Jen, who'd encouraged me in the first place) found it very funny. So did I, admittedly. Mairead's turn came up ad hers was quite similar except instead of hitting a pole, she just skiied pretty much all the way to the youth hostel door on site, plonking herself down nearby. After that however, we both figured out turning and stopping. It was a fucker taking off your ski's and trudging back up the hill everytime for the learners slope. one time Mairead attempted to trudge up with her ski's still on (I mastered this)- she was pretty much at the top of the hill again when one foot slipped slightly backwards. This began the slowest, most helpless backwards descent of a hill on ski's I'd ever seen. She slowly went further and further away from me, unable to stop, calling for help (but laughing all the same) until she ended up at the very bottom of the hill again where she took off her ski's and walked up. As this all happened, I could hear the infectious giggle of Aaron Dormer in my head- he'd have enjoyed it so much.

Bored of the learners slope, we hit a beginners slope. The jump from one to the other was pretty big I must say. When we got to the top of the slope via chairlift Mairead was instantly on her arse, sliding out of her seat.    I pushed myself off slowly down the slope. Next thing I know, I hear screams of Mark! Mark! behind me. I swivel round to see a ball of pink (mairead) hurtling my way at high speed. I desperately try to get out of the way (gentleman), she tries to grab me to stop herself, doesn't get any purchase. I spin round a couple times but stay on my feet and grab a wooden pole. Mairead crashed into a mesh fence nearby. It was fucking hilarious. Gareth pointed out astutely that it was like something from a 'Carry On' film. I could see mairead would be a while so I took a couple tips from expert skiier Jon 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' Mcintyre and went down the hill. Fuck you go fast. And I hadn't mastered slowing or controlling my speed. If i needed to stop or felt I was going too fast I just fell. I got a little stuck at the side for a while but I hurtled down and thoroughly enjoyed it. Jon advised to just go for it, and not be a pussy about it otherwise ya won't enjoy it. Good advice.

I waited a while for Mairead but reports from the slope suggested her descent would be laborious. Some other people were giving up after rather harrowing experiences down the beginners slope. So I was left with Jon (Canadian, skiing since he was 5), Jules (Jon's mot, skiied a lot), Gaz (naturally good) Jamie (gone skiing a few times) and Shuba (skiied a few times). I only knew that Jon and Jules had skiied at this point so I thought we were all pretty much at the same level. I went with them to what was called the Gondola. As we ascended the cable car it started to look really fucking high up. "no," I thought to myself, "we must go up here, go halfway down then get off".

Nope. We were going for the top. Through sheer ignorance, I'd landed myself on a fucker of a mountain that I had to ski down. "How many runs had you done before this Mark?" "Just that one there!" "Fuck! That's brave" (not brave, I thought, stupid ignorance) "maybe you should go back on the car" "Fuck that fockin DO IT!" (Jon).

So fuck it, I went all the way up, I was gonna come down. From the top there were a range of slopes. Jon went down the expert and we took on the beginners. It was really fuckin high up. I started as slow as I could and for the first while I was ok. Then the slope got a little steeper, busier and trickier. I began to fall on my arse and have trouble getting up. Jules was helping me but I didnt wanna ruin her ski so I told her to go ahead. She later told me every now and then she'd she me flying by, falling on my arse and struggling to get up. Essentially when I began to fall, my mind went a bit and I just wasn't using my technique for slowing/turning etc. properly. So essentially. This is how I was going down. Fast as fuck for a while, fall on my arse, dangerously hurtling down the mountain at full speed, fall on my arse. I had to fall for fear I'd crash into someone. My ski's began to go flying off me as I fell (a problem Jon later cited to be down to my boots and ski's not fitting right with each other) the safety guards patrolling the slope had to help me now and then and urged me to 'go slow' 'I'm trying' I replied. But fuck it, it was a rush even though at one point I thought I might have to slide down the rest of the slope on my arse.

Lo and behold however, from ploughing on with it, I actually had the hang of it by the end of the hill. I bumped into Jon (now on his 4th run since I'd seen him) and he said I looked fine. The lads had seen me from the cable car on another run and said I looked in control. Not bad. I'd overcome the Gondola! Fuckin' A. People were amazed I'd gone down it after only 1 other beginner run and I was touted as a hero. Ignorance truly is bliss I guess. I'm glad I went down it anyway cos it was a helluva an experience. Here's us at the top of the Gondola (I was terrified in reality- brave face and all that):

We gave back our gear after that and hit our dorm rooms to shower and get ready for new years. Pre-drinks were had then we hit a club across the road. We paid 10,000 won in each (about 6.50 yos) I got 2 free drinks cards for walking in last and they were giving free shots of tequila (i had 4 or 5). the club was empty enough though but we had a good laugh. Some people hit the booze a little too hard and the night ended earlier and a little messier than hoped. But we had fun and me and mairead saw some fireworks outside. Gaz ordered Pig's Feet from a korean BBQ for an end of the year meal after the night out. I walked in on him, Jen and Shuba- didn't know it was pig's feet, didn't know they hadn't fully bbq'd it yet, ate some- RANK! Gaz got on well with the lady there. Calling her Mama. Here they are together:

We found out the next day we missed quite a show on the slopes. There were skiiers flying down the mountains with torches blazing, spelling out 2012 and all that jazz. sounded cool, but ah well. once ye have fun thats all that matters.

The trip was topped off by them playing the film The Fighter on the bus on the way back. I was gonna sleep but made myself stay awake for that. Great film. And that was new years.

Hope y'all had fun wherever ye may be.

Stay safe.

Squatter's Rights!

Thar' she blows.

Well scrotes, I'd like to introduce you all to the toilet I'm expected to use in school. Not only am I expected to use these, there's the added perk of sharing them with the fifth and sixth grade students. So a piss stenched hell hole or 'pee pee soaked heck hole' is what was awaiting me when I first had to tackle the delicate matter of voiding my bowels during the work day. 

For a few weeks I restricted myself to using the urinals to have a piss, despite them being tailored towards children, I didn't mind this so much. For the first few weeks my school cafeteria was being renovated so I was able to retreat to the sanctuary of my studio apartment where the shit fell out of me like clockwork each lunchtime. Now passing clockwork through your arse might not sound too pleasant but it was better than using a child's squatter anyway. 

Disaster struck when after the first few weeks passed, we were informed we would now have to bring our lunch into school with us, no more leaving the school grounds, my fellow native co-teacher worried about having to cook/prepare something for lunch, I was instantly hit with the stark realisation of having to face the shitty music. Those of you who know me very well will know what a serial shitter I am, so these were dark dark times. 

Now facing these toilets came with other problems other than the fact that they were squatters. The doors are fucking tiny as is the cubicle space in general. "How the hell do the other teachers willingly go along with this?" I wondered aloud while sitting at my desk. Surely a staff toilet isn't too much to ask. As I mentioned before the place also reeks of the miss the bowl pisses that peppered the toilet floor as aim is clearly not a priority for Korean boys aged between 11-13. In addition, do you think they have individual bog roll for each cubicle?? no no no, of course not, why would you? this is Korea, we do it 'better', we have a nice communal dispenser to meet you at the door so any other attendants in the toilet can see just how many inches of bog roll you expect to need in there. Essentially, you announce to the whole damn place how messy you think this encounter with your bowels may turn out. This is the norm in Korean public toilets and its fucking annoying- I don't want people seeing how much I use....I think its intentionally done so out of sheer embarrassment, if nothing else, you'll be more economical. No one wants to be stood at the communal dispenser for ages taking reams and reams of paper. Its just not a comfortable experience. There is of course the tricky issue of the students you may encounter in the toilet as well....they don't go home till half 2 and many stay after for extra classes so there's always the chance you'll run into one of them on your trip to drop a deuce. Knowing how cruel kids can be, the sight of you disappearing into a cubicle with a handful of bog roll and not reappearing until 5 or so minutes later (depending on how clean the fudge dragon you cook up passes), will spread throughout the school like wildfire. 

Soon enough, my despair with the situation turned into anguish. The first while I just couldn't bring myself to go ahead with the ordeal. I sat in extreme discomfort at my desk for easily half the day, very close to just bolting out the door and heading for the nearby safehaven of my apartment. 

As the discomfort increased so, naturally, did my anger. Initial bemusement gave way firstly to indignation and then downright blind rage. Eventually I vented my frustrations via facebook message to Mairead who was willing to listen but thought I should man up and just go. She made the salient point of the damage I was doing to my bowels. she was right, the inability to squat over that horrid hole and squeeze out a chocolate hot dog was not worth getting bowel cancer over. It was late afternoon, no kids in sight I crept into the toilet with ninja like stealth, determined not to be detected. I opened the first door and practically shat myself in anger. NO FUCKING BIN TO PUT THE BOG ROLL IN???? ARE YOU FCKIG KIDDING ME?!?!?!?! No such luck on the next two doors either, finally the last cubicle yielded results.

So my first attempt at using a squatter to pass a dook and it just was not as straightforward as I hoped. I hovered very unsure over the gaping maw of the jacks with my pants now down around my ankles....'what fuck sort of way do I do this?' I wondered. Fuck. I'd forgotten the bog roll. Enraged I said fuck this and held it in one more day. I just couldn't do it.

The next time, I remembered to collect my bog roll on entry, yanking it with real frustration out of the dispenser. The whole time as I contemplated the whole issue I constantly ran ranting monologues through my head "how the fuck do they expect us to face this every day? surely they know we're gonna inevitably have to shit, its bad enough we practically baby sit these little fuckers all day and can't get a moments peace with them hounding you for hello's and nice to meet you's- we have to share the fucking toilets with them?? and they stink! how do the other teachers put up with this? It is not a comfortable fucking work environement...is a fucking staff toilet too much to ask for....one sitter somewhere in this godforsaken place....fuck this, I'm going back to Ireland, I need to know I can shit in comfort at my workplace....FUCK THIS!!!"

Rant over, I attempted to squat again with much trepidation....this just was not fair. After some informal chats about the process of 'squatting for a dook' I had learned of 3 techniques for staying balanced. One was The Eagle. You squatted and sent both arms out to the sides to each wall to keep balance. There was the Keeping the Door Closed- both arms outstretched and pressed against the door, serving the double purpose of keeping you balanced while ensuring no unwanted visitors come in in case the lock is broken and then the Front and Back one arm stretched to the door, the other to the back wall. Naturally I found myself a Keeping the Door Closed guy but have since been converted to the Front and Back. As i eventually squatted, with my hands desperately applying pressure to the door, praying that no one would walk in, I questioned whether I had the aim correct- in two respects. Firstly, you'd be surprised how unsure you are that you're definitly gonna hit the porcelain when squatting like that. The balance was still not perfect and I worried about a possible sway resulting in a shit stained floor. They'd know the culprit was the Westerner accustomed to ya know, sitting on a seat while I shit....imagine that? Crazy foreigners, eh?? Fuck off. The second matter was, being fully aware that a certain amount of urine inevitably passes with the pressure of the push when evacuating your bowels, I wondered how the fuck, squatting like this would I not piss on my jeans around my ankles......This one still worries me every time I tackle the squatters....I find I have to shit and then when I feel the piss coming kinda scuttle back a bit and make sure I get a hand down there to aim my dick away from the trousers....I really have had to do that every time I've used a squatter....lovely imagery for all I'm sure. 

Anyway, I took a deep breath and went. It wasn't exactly my finest turd, it certainly wasn't a no wiper- much to my irritation I still await my first no wiper here in Korea. The place stank as there's no water to mask any of the smell, just a nice dry turd steaming away beneath ya....I flushed, wiped as quick as I could and got the fuck out of there. Fear overcome, but I still never wanted to go back.

Alas, I did return however quite a few times. Until I finally discovered......can you believe it, in the school's gym:

Halle-fucking-lujah! A fucking proper sit down shitter! I'd never been so happy to see one in my fuckin life. The cubicles a little cramped and the toilet itself a little low (but thats the norm for korean shitters) but thank fuck, it was a shitter. 

A couple of awkward encounters with the PE teacher when entering the gym made me still use the squatter the odd time. An embarrassed nod of the head as his eyes locked with mine, seeming to silently accuse 'I know that its you leaving all the shit stained bog roll in the bin in that cubicle'. But now I don't give a fuck, every day, anytime since there's no students there, I go and have my shit in relative peace (except if PE is on, then its a quick Dump and Run). And there's no fuckin way I'm goin back to a squatter unless in absolute dire need. I'm all for different cultures and the fact that different countries do things differently but I can say unequivocally, without a shred or hint of doubt that on the toilet front- Korea bad, Western World good.

And that goes for all the other dirty squatters out there.

yeah I'm talking bout you.......

Later scrotes!