PaulKatcher.com

PK.com on Vacation (Yes, Again)

(This is gonna have to be my lone post of the week. I'll be representing the fashionable and exclusive Upper West Side at the Montreal Beer Festival till Friday, returning for a wedding (not mine) on Saturday. So I guess we'll meet again with a trip report and pictures on Monday. Until then, enjoy this link-dump.)

Sports:

• Syracuse Wins Ninth Men's Lacrosse Title — A record-setting attendance of 43,898 sees my alma mater add some hardware in Michael Powell's final game.

• Why Athletes Pee on Their Hands — A Slate explainer inspired by Moises Alou's admission that he urinates on his hands to toughen them up. Alou doesn't use batting gloves, and I'm guessing he doesn't know they exist, because they seem like a pretty reasonable alternative to giving oneself a golden shower. (All of the Red Sox wear batting gloves, but Manny Ramirez likes to step in crap to make him faster.)

• William Hung Butchers 'Take Me Out to Ball Game' — The Bombers should drop an extra three homers on the Blue Jays for letting this happen. Haven't we arrived at Hung's 16th minute yet?

• Phil Mushnick Reflects on Warner Wolf's Career — I don't know how much of a splash Wolf made outside of New York and Washington, but the recently fired sportscaster was a pioneer in, as Mushnick explains, engaging the 80 percent of local news viewers who aren't real sports fans. Wolf was famous for interjecting lines like "Let's Go to the Video Tape!" and "Gimme a Break!"

• John Kruk: Karl Malone's a Cheapshot Artist — Just a small item at the end of the mostly baseball column from the mostly cellulite former baseball player. As far as "celebrity sportswriters" go, this guy's pretty good. Looks like he's putting in a real effort. The column doesn't have a ghost-written feel, like Dick Vitale's and John Madden's.

Web Finds:

• Rate Your Sex Drive — Liquid Generation's simple Flash quiz to help you determine whether you're a sex machine or wet napkin. Too bad Wilt Chamberlain's no longer around to give this a shot. He'd probably break it anyway.

• What Your Girl's Sleeping Position Says About Her — Playboy.com's "sleep expert" assumes the positions and analyzes the sexual vibe emanating from each. Here's to The Starfish!

• Operation: Take One for the Country — A women's group dedicated to "discretely provide U.S. troops shipping out overseas with the most sensually pleasing departure possible." The operation's organizer, Donna, says there are no headquarters and the mission spreads by word of mouth. She said mouth. Hu-huh. (And I'm going to give the benefit of the doubt and trust this site was really started by a woman and not an Army guy who happens to know HTML and hasn't gotten laid in awhile.)

• Broward Hot Spots' Bikini Contest Pics — Alex's site is always worth a visit. Check out this photo of a hot chick on a stage. There's one guy at the bar, and the fucker's not even looking. Hey, Siegfried, turn around!

• 300 Images From 1800 Sites — A graphical survey of icons used on a number of sites. A little something for you web designers out there.

• The River IQ Game — Follow the link atop this page to waste work time trying to get an entire family, a cop and a thief across a river, two at a time.

News:

• Nikki Sixx Throws Bass at Fan — More juicy gossip from Metal Sludge. One Motley Crue bassist. One middle finger. One kid lying in a pool of blood.

• Snoop Dogg Files for Divorce — This guy's been married for seven years? Did she help produce the porno movies? Is Snoop the biggest caricature of himself, or are Christopher Walken and William Shatner still tied for that honor?

• Scott Wolf Marries Hot Chick From Real World New Orleans — First Alyssa Milano and now Kelley Limp, that Party of Five dude is getting all my favorite chicks.

• Scholars Say Bush Campaign Is Making History With Often-Misleading Attacks on Kerry — A Washington Post story on how the incumbent leads the challenger in negative charges and untruths. This being politics, neither is completely innocent. I can't wait for those debates. Gonna make Ali-Frazier look like Astaire-Rogers.

• Bloggers Find Ways to Profit — A San Francisco Examiner report on the various ways site owners can turn those eyeballs into cash. I think it's a violation of my agreement with Google to disclose how much I've made since I added some simple code atop my hundreds of archive pages (example), but it's been very much worth the few minutes to implement.

New York:

• MTA Mulls Ban on Photography in Subway System — Yeah, imagine if the terrorists find out that all you have to do to get on a subway is to slide a plastic card through a turnstile. Shhhhhhh!

• Bill Clinton Update: Screw the Upper West Side — Damn, after reading the New York Post's initial report, I was looking forward to doing shots with Slick Willie at Yogi's.

• Pac-Manhattan — An analog version of the game played on the streets of NYC. They should get some Scores strippers to dress as ghosts. Then I'd let them catch me — three times!

• Ask the Expert: The Doorman — A Q&A with the man who knows more about you than your mother. Your friendly neighborhood doorman, who sees when, how and with whom you come home. Do they really act nicer to residents toward the end of the year? Find out.

• NYC Rental Car Deals — Renting a car in the city has got to be one of the most humbling experiences. It's ridiculously expensive — a five-day rental from the Upper West Side is $489.95 — and it's incredibly hard to find one available on summer weekends. Manhattan User Guide has some tips.

• Terry Divyak's New York Trip Report/Photos — A professional photographer whose bodies of work I've linked to before, recaps his experience in the Big Apple. He's got a funny photo of six guys gawking at a hottie passer-by and makes an astute observation on the shapes and sizes of our residents. "The most interesting thing that I noticed is there were very few overweight people within the city. And the ones who were, looked like they were tourists." We've got a few chunk monsters, too, but Terry's pretty much right on. To quote master thespian Dick Butkus in Hamburger... The Motion Picture: This is no porker's paradise!

Shocking Images Emerge From N.Y. Giants Camp

I never thought I would be more embarrassed to be a fan of the New York Giants than when I attended last December's 45-7 thrashing at the hands of the Saints in New Orleans. But that was before I caught a special report on BNN exposing abuses in Giants training camp that include disturbing images of players being forced to perform acts that have been described as "humiliating" and "physically painful."

Colonel Tom Coughlin has refused to acknowledge allegations of abuse that charge him with forcing players to perform:

Push-Ups: Can cause extreme soreness in the shoulders.

Wind Sprints: Sap players of their energy, get them sweaty and put them at risk of suffering contact with insects in the facial area.

And the kicker (not Matt Bryant)...

... being forced to stand naked in a room while being sprayed with hot water, risking eye stings caused by a slippery, soapy substance called shampoo.

Fans have been protesting outside Giants camp, holding signs that read, "Practice Is Inhumane," but there appears to be no end in sight to the torture suffered by these millionaires. So far the only good news is that one escapee, identified only as No. 5, has found asylum in Oakland. Stay tuned to PK.com for breaking news coverage of this developing story.

(Thanks to Tommy for the link.)

Other Sports Links:

• Anna Benson Photo Galleries — Visit the official website of the wife of Pittsburgh Pirates starting pitcher Kris Benson. I wonder if all Pirates pitchers do this well off the field. Anyone got pictures of the gals who married John Candelaria, Kurt Tekulve, Doug Drabek or Rick Rhoden? (Thanks, Joe)

• 10 Greatest Canadians — It's a Page 2 list tied to the NHL Finals — which includes a Canadian franchise for the first time in awhile — so it's sports-heavy. Can you guess which athletic hero is No. 1? How 'bout if I told you it wasn't Wayne Gretzky? Or even a hockey player?

• Yanks' Hired Guns Lack Mystique — Not one of Bill Simmons' best columns, but the most interesting part is where he describes a Red Sox fan wearing a "JETER HAS AIDS" T-shirt as a "maniac." Is that really the best word to describe such a vile, bigoted cretin? Great to have those guys around, just to make parents even more uncomfortable about bringing kids to the ballpark.

• 20 Greatest NBA Finals Moments — NBA.com runs 'em down and includes video of each, which you can view with a simple, free registration. These league sites are starting to show value for fans, mixing some real good content with the obligatory p.r.-type material.

Head to Head: Best Career

I don't know why kids say they want to be police officers and teachers when they grow up. Who looks forward to being sprayed with bullets and spitballs? Clearly, the three best professions in America are far more prestigious and lucrative. I just can't decide which is best. Perhaps you can help with a comment:

Sports Star
Pros: The only profession where champions are rewarded with parades, as if they're war heroes. Invaded Normandy? Hit a big Game 6 home run? Same thing!... Decades after your greatest feat, middle-aged men will run over kids to get your autograph... Via endorsement contracts, you're viewed as an expert on all fluids. Is there a major athlete out there who doesn't pimp some kind of soda or energy drink?
Cons: Short career span. And guys like Ray Lewis are looking to make it shorter on every snap... Having to listen to Joe From Queens — a guy who thinks nothing of waiting on hold for 30 minutes to get 30 seconds of air time on a sports talk radio show — critique your value in a multi-billion-dollar industry... Having to keep in shape in the offseason when there are all those strip clubs to visit... Nothing is scripted. Can't run another take after missing that 47-yeard field goal in Super Bowl XXV.

Rock Star
Pros: Instead of being vilified for drinking, drugging and screwing around, you're celebrated for it... Looks apparently don't matter to women. Have you taken a peek at Gene Simmons, Nikki Sixx and Rick Ocasek lately? Compare them to Shannon Tweed, Donna D'Errico and Paulina Porizkova. Now that's trading up... The riders. Whatever you want — red M&M's, lobster cocktail on ice, 20 cases of Budweiser — you get. Who's gonna fuck with your drug-fueled idiosyncracies?
Cons: Short life expectancy. And even when you're alive, you might look dead... Those dastardly kids who download music, limiting your income to windfall from $100 concert ticket prices... People saying you suck when they'd brag to their friends for years on end if you played their birthday party... Cocaine isn't a great financial investment.

Hollywood Celebrity
Pros: The most you'll ever be asked to do is act. Or maybe something as strenuous as reciting the nominees for Best Supporting Actress... No one cares what's between your ears. The hardest question you'll ever be asked is, What's it like to work with Ben Stiller?... Dearth of quality original programming means plenty of residuals from your work portraying Cliff Claven.
Cons: Fans will always identify you with your characters. Hey look, there's Tim Robbins! He crawled through a pipe of shit in The Shawshank Redemption!... Can't leave the house without paparazzi looking for that exclusive shot of you starting up your car... Losing auditions to the chick in the micro-mini-skirt... Having to live in L.A.

When the Calgary Flames Win, We All Win

There are two types of content that you almost never find on this site: gratuitous nudity and anything related to hockey. One's disgusting, and the other you can find on porn sites everywhere.

Put them, together, though, and we're all over it. Especially when it serves as a study of Canadian culture. Or, as I like to call it, female Calgary fans celebrating the Flames' Western Conference triumph by exposing their breasts in public.

I didn't even know the NHL postseason had started before links got sent to me this week to these sites:

• FlamesGirls.com — Ten pages of photos of drunk girls doing their Playboy test shoots on the street after Calgary's victories over the San Jose Sharks, the selfish bastards who tried in vain to prevent such debauchery from occurring.

• Calgary Girls Gone Wild — A blog-formatted site served at a curiously named domain of AmericanEvil.com. Updated every day with user-submitted pics from Calgary party scenes, also known as streets full of drunks in pure ecstasy over the Flames scoring goals off people's heads and skates and shoulders, or whatever defines success in the NHL.

What do these scenes say about Calgary? Apart from the fact that it's home to my now-favorite NHL team (Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals Tuesday night in Tampa Bay; 8 p.m. ESPN), and that the local economy is supported greatly by sales of digital cameras and booze, these acts mean the Flames historically suck. Not that I'm complaining, but you don't see fans of the New York Yankees, Duke Blue Devils or Los Angeles Lakers exposing themselves for merely advancing to the championship round. I wonder if Joey Sindelar's wife jumped in a pond naked after he broke his 14-year PGA Tour losing streak last week. And perhaps NYC females should celebrate, in said fashion, after taking a rare cab ride in which the taxi driver never pulls out his cell phone.

What do these scenes say about the Internet? Nothing spreads quicker than a site full of tits. I don't know if John Kerry's website has some hidden wet t-shirt photos starring his daughter, but I don't think it would be a bad idea. Keep an eye out the next two weeks to see how much attention, both mainstream and otherwise, these sites generate. Expect to see revenge pictures of airbrushed ex-girlfriends submitted as celebration photos as well as porn sites jumping on the bandwagon by blasting search engines with keywords. And maybe some civil crackdowns as well, such as Calgary cops preventing girls from flashing in public unless they do it in front of police cars.

As for the NBA Playoffs: What were Peyton Manning and Marvin Harrison doing seated next to each other at Monday night's Pistons-Pacers game? If I'm a Colts fan, I gotta be freaking out that my team doesn't have a rule against perhaps the NFL's best quarterback and best wide receiver being in such close proximity. What if someone sets off a really huge stink bomb? Let's use some common sense here. I don't wanna see Derek Jeter and Jason Giambi so much as in the same neighborhood when they're hitting strip clubs after Yankees games.

An a serious sorta-related note, one of the biggest arguments I ever had with my mom was when she told me a story about a married couple she knew who refused to fly together out of concern that a disaster would leave their kids parentless. She thought this strategy contained a shred of reasonable thinking. I thought their fear had already rendered their lives over. Pussies. It enrages me to this day, and I don't even know those people.

Other Sports Links:

• The Sports Guy's Ramblings — As much as I wish he'd stick with sports — me and like everyone else — he's still the best out there. One of many gems: "It's too bad you could never coordinate this with 40,000 people, but the next time Barry Bonds comes up, if everyone at SBC Park cheered all at once, and then someone in the right-field stands threw a ball into the bay so all those losers in the boats would dive in for the ball ... and then this happened like five or six times ... I mean, that would be kinda fun, right?"

• King Kaufman Remembers Baseball Writer Doug Pappas — One of the most influential baseball scribes has died at 43, of heat prostration while hiking. Salon's sports columnist reflects on the career of the Society for American Baseball Research leader, whose work using statistics to measure baseball trends and efficiencies influenced the minds of fans and industry insiders alike.

• The Brushback — A recently found sports spoof site. Includes such headlines as "Bonds To Play Left Field In Giant Reclining Chair" and "Roy Jones Jr. Writes Rap Song About Getting His Head Bashed In."

• Complete List of Baseball's Retired Numbers — Reggie Jackson's No. 9 with the Oakland A's is the latest to be hung up forever. As far as I can tell, Nolan Ryan has his number retired by the most teams: three (Angels No. 30 and Astros and Rangers No. 34). I'm not counting Jackie Robinson's No. 42, which has been retired by all teams.

The Great NYCBP.com Booze Cruise Ticket Giveaway

It pays to have Yankees fans as friends. NYCBP.com emperor Kevin Fitzpatrick is allotting 10 tickets to his Thursday, May 27 Fleet Week Booze Cruise to be given away free to PK.com visitors.

Unfortunately, I can't make this one. I have a prior engagement to help my co-ed charity football team, Chico's Bail Bonds, win Best Drinking Team for Zog Sports. But, for those who can make the booze cruise, here's what it entails:

• The three-hour Manhattan tour aboard Marco Polo Cruises' Half Moon sets sail at 7 p.m. Get there early to avoid being left ashore and cursing your bad fortune, just like fans of the Sacramento Kings and Philadelphia Flyers.

• The bartenders are Carmit and Timmie. Among sexiest bartending teams in New York, this Israeli-Hungarian connection has the cachet of Lewis & Clark, Smith & Wesson, Jameson & Jeremy. Let's take a look at their fine work at last summer's booze cruise: Paul's Photos | Kevin's Photos

• The cruise features a cash bar, so you'll pay reasonable prices for drinks. But through Kevin's generous offer, you'll be skipping the $20 boarding fee. So you'll be touring Manhattan island — snapping great photos of downtown and getting a glimpse under Lady Liberty's skirt — for nothing. The Circle Line tourists wish they had it so good.

• Kevin says over 100 tickets have been sold, around 40 of which have been purchased by a bachelorette party being thrown for some chick from New Orleans. Bring the beads, I guess. (This is the part of the post where I curse god for not allowing me to be in two places at once.)

• Complete details at NYCBP.com.

So, how do you score a free ticket or two? Just e-mail me at paul@paulkatcher.com with your full name and I'll hook you up. Meet Kevin at the dock and you'll be on the list of VIPs. How easy is that? All I want in return is to see your photos. And maybe you can pimp my site on the boat, too. Oh, and spread the Gospel of Steinbrenner after a few shots.

And Now I Need Your Help
Upon returning from a long weekend visiting friends in the sticks — driving to bars, cooking and washing dishes with my own hands, shopping in a Wal-Mart — I found more than 6,300 spam comments, from the same source selling Viagra and the like, that have all but ruined my individual entry archives. I've tried everything I know to stop them — banning IP addresses and URLs with MT-Blacklist, even disallowing comments altogether. It's not working, the comments are still being posted, and I view this spam attack as a crime against the work I've done since this site went to a blog format in December 2003.

Anyone have advice on how to clear this shit? I'm not talking 5 or 10 comments. That I've been dealing with for over a year. I'm talking 6,300. (Update: I was able to delete 1,000 comments at a time using MT-Blacklist. What a pain in the ass. I didn't deserve this.)

I would also like to pursue legal action. Anyone know a lawyer who specializes in Internet attacks? It's not so much that I have to retain the interactive value of mostly dormant archives, but we can't lose the medium to this unethical bullshit.

Monday Link Dump:

• Syracuse Lacrosse Headed to 22nd Straight Final Four — I was in transit as Steve Vallone scored with just six seconds left to break a 7-7 tie with Georgetown. And the streak continues. In other lacrosse news, Princeton advanced to the national semis with an overtime victory over Maryland. The Tigers are an incredible 23-0 in NCAA play in games against teams not named Syracuse.

• Art of eBay Selling — Clear, Precise, Entertaining — Another great Internet tool that's been diluted with scammers, but the good still greatly outweighs the bad.

• Reunion Shows Bring Back Dallas, One Day at a Time — I guess this means Larry Hagman is still alive, huh? That I can handle. But a return to the small screen of Bonnie Franklin and women's lib comedy? Nooooooooo! Can someone send me a tape of the One Day at a Time reunion with everything but the Pat Harrington scenes spliced out? (Thanks, Art)

• When I Grow Up, I Want to Wear a Bikini at Auto Shows — Fifth-grader Cindy Harris contributes this commentary to The Onion.

• The Economics of Music: For the Artist, They're Very Ugly Indeed — BookOfJoe.com follows the money for a gold album that sells for $18.98. A five-member group would get $40,250 ... to divide amongst themselves.

• Are British Chicks in NYC Looking for Sex With No Strings? — The New York Observer is on the scene: "'The standard way of meeting someone in England is you get drunk and meet them at a party and end up snogging them — and then you go on a date if you like them,' my new acquaintance Carolyn told me."

• 9/11 Victims' Families Heckle Giuliani at 9/11 Hearing — Sounds like these folks were frustrated by political processes. Certainly, he's not the guy to be most angry at for 9/11.

• Lingerie Football League to Kick Off — Full contact? Good. Pay-per-view? Bad. Tell me how it goes.

Mel Gibson Has B.O. And More Celebrity Gossip

In line at the grocery story Wednesday, I stood behind a woman purchasing a copy of US and The National Enquirer. Some heavy duty reading there. She also had on yellow socks and a fanny pack, so there were other forces at work. But I don't get my celebrity info from such rags. Rather, I click my mouse along the beacon of electronic truth known as the Internet. You can believe everything you read online, trust me.

Take, for example, the collection of celebrity gossip known as the A List. Who's gay? Who flies in Thai hookers to movie sets? Who's got a torture chamber in her house? Who's got five more minutes to finish this post and find out?

Allow me to take you into the lives of the rich, famous and fake-boobed, with an assist from the A List:

Kirstie Alley: The former Cheers star turned tricks as a teen, boasts about her parents' sexual skill and has a torture chamber in her house. And she's on the cover of The National Enquirer, which reports that the bloated, 5-7 Scientologist weighs over three bills.

Jennifer Aniston: A big pothead who tips well.

Warren Beatty: Linked with Isabelle Adjani, Brigitte Bardot, Candice Bergen, Halle Berry, Sonia Braga, Judy Carne, Cher, Julie Christie, Joan Collins, Janice Dickinson, Britt Ekland, Jane Fonda, Melanie Griffith, Goldie Hawn, Bianca Jagger, Diane Keaton, Madonna, Vivian Leigh, Jackie Onassis, Michelle Phillips, Diana Ross, Diane Sawyer, Stephanie Seymour, Carly Simon, Barbara Streisand, Liv Ullman, Mamie Van Doren, Tennessee Williams, and Natalie Wood.

Clint Black: Prefers uncut men. He likes playing with the skin and loves to give, not receive.

Kobe Bryant: Described Beyoncé as boring in bed.

George Bush: Glad-handing sack of shit.

Helena Bonham Carter: Dresses like an old homeless woman and has the worst breath you've ever smelled.

Bill Clinton: Reportedly nailed Sharon Stone on election evening.

Joan Crawford: Slept with every male star at MGM except Lassie.

Matt Damon: Likes threeways with hookers and Ben Affleck. One account has the two looking at each other (and getting off on that) while doing the pro.

Mel Gibson: Has a taste for Thai hookers; has them flown in while he's on set. Is also a shoe fetishist. Locals on one film agreed that he had the world's worst case of b.o.

Reggie Jackson: Gay or bisexual.

Michael Jordan: Linked with Robin Givens, Vanessa Williams, and various porn stars (including Kylie Ireland).

Jay Leno: Into bondage. Buffoon. Linked with Sandra Bernhard.

Nancy Davis Reagan: Reported to give the best head in Hollywood, in her day.

Winona Ryder: Linked with Ryan Adams, Dodi al Fayeed, Beck, Bono, Ed Burns, George Clooney, Matt Damon, Evan Dando, Daniel Day-Lewis, Johnny Depp, Robert Downey Jr., David Duchovny, Adam Duritz, Jakob Dylan, Everlast, Jimmy Fallon, Dave Grohl, Corey Haim, Chris Isaak, Courtney Love, Brittany Murphy, Chris Noth, Dave Pirner, Charlie Sheen, Christian Slater, Mark Wahlberg, Paul Westerberg, Bruce Willis, and Pete Yorn.

And there you have it. An intimate, and 100% truthful, look at some celebrity lives. The A-List qualifies its findings by saying that they "may or may not be true, and is based on hearsay, rumor, and gossip..." Ah, whatever. If it's good enough for the Internet, it's good enough for me.

Other Web Finds:

• Boycott Gillette — Do hidden cameras in Gillette spy shelves take mug shots of people who pick up their products? This website contends it does. (Link found on ApeChild.com)

• eBay Find: A Great Ball Shaver — Check out the testimonials in the product description. "My balls are thanking you!! I even trimmed my ass hairs! This shaver is GREAT!!" (Thanks, Shumpy)

• Flash: Europe and Italy — A funny look at how the paisanos do things a little differently. (Thanks, Pee Wee)

• eBay Find: Seinfeld Putty Magic 8-Ball Leather Jacket — How come I don't remember him wearing one of these when I saw every episode like 20 times? I wasn't the biggest Putty fan anyway. (Thanks, Kevin)

• American Experience: Golden Gate Bridge — PBS does such a bang-up job with its program-related websites. This one is no different.

• Photo: Fireman Rides Solid Wooden Bike — Not what you'd call a threat to Lance Armstrong's sixth consecutive Tour de France victory.

Full Disclosure: Joe Richards, National Commissioner of Fuel for Truth

New York is a rather large area, but we still have our "small world" moments. Such was the case when I ran into fellow SU alum Joe Richards (not pictured) at Jake's Dilemma on the Upper West Side, getting his ass kicked by maybe the best foosball players I've ever seen. Seriously, this was the kind of two-man team where the goalie could have been scratching his balls, drinking beer and knitting a sweater, and he still wouldn't have had to make a play.

While chatting with Joe, I learned he's national coordinator of Fuel For Truth, an organization whose mission is to gather and disseminate accurate information about Israel and the Middle East. This immediately makes him more proactive than me, who is using his SU degree to post links about Benicio Del Toro slamming 19-year-olds in elevators and complaining about shit like the Yankees getting absolutely hosed Tuesday night, when Jorge Posada was so safe at home that Ray Charles could have made that call while being cracked in the head by Sammy Sosa's corked bat.

I try to keep this site politics-free — *cough* *cough* KERRY IN 2004! *cough* *cough* — but I wanted to lend some space to Joe to explain, in further detail, Fuel For Truth:

1. Write us a 30-second radio commercial for Fuel for Truth.
Fuel For Truth is a non-profit organization that supports Israel and strives to combat media bias and disseminate truth, and raise awareness, and hopes for a peaceful resolution. Our mission is not to impose political ideas or positions on its members but to inform. Too many Americans, both Jewish and non-Jewish, have no true knowledge of the history or events that have led up to the tragic crisis that exists in Israel today. Even worse, far too few of us are aware that there are things we can do as individuals now to work towards peace.

Our organization was founded in September 2001 by young people who come from various backgrounds such as: lawyers, sports agents, film producers, nightclub promoters and more. In a few short years, we have gone from 20 people to nearly 2000. The vast majority of Fuel For Truth and the people who run it are 18-34 years old. We are our target market.

2. Which media do you think is guilty of anti-Israel bias?
Any media that propagates a double standard in the war on terrorism can be considered anti-Israel. While it's fine that the world is hunting down Bin Laden, Israel is castigated for removing a top Hamas leader whose organization is determined to eradicate Israel, all Jews and threatened to attack America. The world must insist the media report on a single standard of judgment and criticism with regard to all nations. That way all information we receive can truly be "fair and balanced."

3. Why do think the U.S. is so closely tied to the Israeli-MIddle East conflict?
Israel, like America, is a democracy in an area that is threatened by the notion of freedom. In Israel, there are 1.2 million Arab Muslims that live in Israel proper — not the West bank or Gaza — who have more rights in Israel than any Arab country. In Israel, Arab women have the right to vote, there are Arab members and Arab political parties in Parliament . About two weeks ago an Israeli Arab was appointed to the Supreme Court in Israel. These pillars of democracy enrage Israel's neighbors because they themselves do not have basic freedoms. Israel, a close ally to the U.S., wants to grow and thrive peacefully but in order to do that they need support. Both the U.S. and Israel want to help the Palestinian people, but until they can be free of their corrupt leadership, the Palestinian people will continue to suffer. The U.S., being a world leader, should support countries like Israel and others that seek peace and try live a life of democracy and freedom for their people.

4. What can young Americans do to affect positive change in the area?
Learn basic facts about the situation. On our website we have "The Top 10 Facts You Need to Know. " There you can learn, in an easy language, basic facts about the conflict that are backed by plenty of sources of information. If we can understand the root of the issues then we can begin to question why there is still a problem instead of accusing a party.

There was a recent poll done by The Israel Project that said, "52% of Americans say they have a Jewish friend or coworker. 75% of them say their Jewish friend or coworker has not spoken to them in support of Israel." We believe if people knew the truth about Israel's war on terror, they would be more willing to speak up and we would be a better-informed culture. With so much information available these days — we get small doses by here on the web, TV, newspapers, etc. — that it's difficult to get the whole story. We need to get the facts.

5. Tell us about the events you organize in the NYC area and outside of the Big Apple.
On Thursday, May 20, Fuel For Truth is producing an event titled "Are You All Talk or Action?" at Crobar beginning at 7 p.m. Its free admission, open bar for one hour and free appetizers, music by top NYC DJs. RSVP to RSVP@FuelForTruth.org. Due to a tremendous response doors open at 6:45 p.m. There will be a brief presentation about the situation in Israel and the Middle East and what you can do here in the U.S. to be part of a peaceful resolution. Otherwise FFT visits college campuses with their "Old Skool" Campus Program such as Syracuse, SUNY Buffalo and Binghamton, spreading the truth.

6. What do you think of Syracuse University's decision to change their teams sports' nicknames from Orangemen and Orangewomen to The Orange?
Gotta love ya for this one Paul! Being a former athlete at SU on the wrestling team, which they recently cut from the sports program (the only school to have a 4-time national champion), I think it was the right thing to do. I can easily see why the original team name would have been offensive to some. Changes like that raise awareness among the majority.

Paul's Recap: Major thanks to Joe for letting us know about his organization, Fuel For Truth. Many people confuse me with being Jewish — my housekeeper wanted to hook me up with a client of hers, saying "she's really nice" (Great! A euphemism for butt-ugly) and "she's Jewish" (Who cares? I'm not! Big nose or not, I'm having that ham and cheese omelette) — but Jewish or non-Jewish, we should all strive for peace all around the globe. So much land ownership has been "won" during war that it's hard to avoid the chicken-and-egg question of who "started it." Let's leave this globe in a more peaceful shape then whence we arrived. Having just returned from a tour of Europe, where almost all history has been affected by war-inspired land-grabs, I can assure you our generation has more to be proud of than previous ones. (And maybe we can't absolve the U.S. from that, either. If the Native Americans want their land back, what can we say? Too late? Get your guns? Kill us first? It's so complicated.)

Other Observations: Only 52% of Americans have a Jewish friend or coworker? Clearly these people don't work in New York or L.A. Funny how it works from neighborhood to neighborhood. I played high school basketball my senior year and, when playing a mostly-Jewish school, our point guard labeled a play "Hitler." This was the kind of cheap fuck he was. Never in danger at home, because there was only one Jew in our school. (If you counted me and my brother for having a Jewish dad and a Catholic mom, there were two.) Never in danger on the court, because he wouldn't call that out unless the odds were 10-1 on his side. That's why, when I found out he'd gotten married, I thought, "Too bad she doesn't know what an asshole she committed her life to."

As for the Orangemen, I never thought any reasonable person could have ever made the connection between a Syracuse University national champion (whether it be football, basketball, lacrosse or wrestling. We rock!) and a member of the anti-Catholic Orange Order across the Atlantic. C'mon, when you see Carmelo cutting down the nets in New Orleans, do you also see Catholics running for the hills, or Bourbon Street, or Harrah's Casino? It was a marketing move, a confounding partnership with Nike and something that had better churn out some kick-ass apparel next football season. We only represented a color the whole time! It had nothing to do with fruit or politics or religion. Just color!

Gene Simmons Confirms C.C. DeVille's Druggin'

Will the dream concert pairing of Poison and Kiss go on as scheduled July 20 in Holmdel, N.J., when I plan to be in attendance at the PNC Bank Arts Center? The latest Metal Sludge gossip to rock the music world confirms, with photographic evidence, that Poison guitarist C.C. DeVille was "all coked up" at the release party of KISS treasury secretary Gene Simmons' new album, Asshole. The Demon, who doesn't drink, smoke or say no to any woman, isn't really down with that stuff. Especially if it takes a dime out of his pocket.

It would be a shame if this caused a rift between the bands, derailing KISS' sixth farewell tour. Where would the band get material for the ninth tell-all book and 15th live album of greatest hits? Seriously, sometimes you can walk into a record store and find only a dozen CDs that include I Love it Loud.

Metal Sludge found confirmation of the C.C./Asshole/coke situation posted in the "Your Letters" section of GeneSimmons.com, which is definitely worth a visit, if only to read Gene's insightful replies, such as "No" and "Correct." He smarter than that — if he wasn't he wouldn't have sucked hundreds of dollars out of my pocket over the years. I guess he's saving the good commentary for the next $24.95 hardcover book. Glad to see he included a picture of a girl's ass he once autographed (see bottom of this page, it's your guess as to what's between the cheeks).

The highlight of the fan letters is definitely a note from a guy named Sonny, who passed along some pictures from a recent KISS tribute show at Don Hill's in New York (see half-way down this page). Know why the first two pictures look familiar to me? 'Cause I fucking took them! (See my photo album from the Don Hill's show and compare to the ones posted on GeneSimmons.com.) Those are my photos, and Gene Simmons is in violation of state, federal, planetary and galaxia (?) copyright laws, as it pertains to electronic transfer of images of women sporting strap-on dildos on stage.

Other News Links:

• Fallon Signs Off of Saturday Night Live — There goes the best Weekend Update anchor since Norm MacDonald, whom I've heard really is related to Ronald. Know how many times I've seen SNL live in the past 10 years? Maybe five. If it weren't for Comedy Central, this show wouldn't exist in my universe.

• Webby Award Winners Announced — Like I've said a million times, these awards don't mean shit anymore, but I bet you click anyway. And if not, then seriously consider visiting Johanna's Art Inspired by Steve Nicks, appropriately slotted in the Weird category.

• Jimmy Kimmel's Exploding Head — We almost lost Jimmy last week after a few too many Advils caused his head to swell on-air.

• Benicio Del Toro Bangs Scarlett Johannson in Elevator — Or so she says. He's 37, she's 19. Anyone kinda wince when you read that? I don't mean about the age difference. I mean that he's supposedly 37 when he looks 47. No way is that dude only six years older than me. (Then again, I just polled two women and they guessed 35 and 38, so it shows you what I know.)

• Playboy Editorial Search Down to a Few Good Men — I enjoy reading business articles about Playboy like I enjoy someone slamming a car door on my hand, but check out this note at the bottom: "Playboy insiders say it's gotten increasingly difficult to get starlets with newsstand draw to pose for the magazine." You don't say. And what super-intelligent New York blogger happened to make this very point in February 2003? Oh yeah, me. (Thanks, Art)

• Kerry Daughter Heats Up Cannes Red Carpet — The Democratic presidential hopeful's offspring shows some boobage in a see-through dress. Probably should get this pic on some campaign posters. (Thanks, Larry)

• Plant Visited By Bush to Highlight 'Working' Economic Policy Shuts Down — I guess that mission wasn't really accomplished, either.

Bonds Challenges Yanks as MLB's Top Road Draw

It should come as no surprise that the first-place New York Yankees are Major League Baseball's top home and road attraction (see attendance figures), averaging 46,407 fans per game at Yankee Stadium and 39,536 away from the Bronx. But the 15-23 (.395) San Francisco Giants are not far behind, averaging just eight less fans per game on the road. The catalyst, of course, is Barry Bonds.

Like LeBron James' influence on the Cleveland Cavaliers, who were the No. 2 road draw in the NBA, Bonds is a one-man money-making machine, and not just for San Fran. Figuring a team as crappy as the Giants should be averaging 10,000 less fans per road game, Bonds is single-handedly responsible for approximately 800,000 extra tickets sold, generating about $15 million extra in gate, assuming an average ticket price of just under $20. Food, drink and souvenirs must also be factored in.

Not bad for a guy who may be the least-admired superstar in modern sports history. Recently, Bonds was asked about Roger Clemens' special travel arrangement with the Houston Astros, whom he does not accompany to road games when he's not scheduled to start.

"I ain't white. What world are you living in? I live in reality. They'd never let a black man get away with that.''

An ironic position, considering Bonds enjoys some of the most special treatments in all of team sports. Rick Reilly famously documented the 24-and-1 situation in the 2001 Giants clubhouse. Only one skipped team pictures. Only one had his own p.r. guy. Only one didn't ride the team bus. And he asks us what world we're living in?

And that's why those extra 10,000 fans per game aren't sporting Bonds jerseys or cheering him on. Michael Jordan was universally appreciated. Wayne Gretzky was universally beloved. Bonds is respected as a superhuman talent — in 2002, I wrote that Bonds "took decades of universally accepted baseball strategy and turned it on its head" — but he almost makes it impossible to like him. It's only a matter of time before he makes headlines for pulling a prima donna act during this year's All-Star festivities. Last year, he refused to take part in the Home Run Derby. When asked for an explanation, he told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution: "Because I'm a grown man and I don't have to do it." Too bad he doesn't always act like it.

Other Sports Links:

• Syracuse Lacrosse One Win From 22nd Straight Final Four — The "Orange" — ugh, I hate saying that — defeat Albany to advance to Sunday's national quarterfinal against Georgetown.

• Maxim Online's Seventh-Inning Scratch — I usually don't enjoy sports columns that are entirely tongue-in-cheek, but there are a few witty gems in here, highlighted by Larry Dobrow's analysis of the Mets' manager: "If, as prophesized, the meek are to inherit the earth, then Art Howe shall one day be our cosmic overlord."

• The Toughest Job in Town — A New York Post feature on the crucible known as managing/coaching a New York sports team. In the last couple of years, only Joe Torre and Herman Edwards have kept their jobs. Jim Fassel, Bobby Valentine, Don Chaney, Byron Scott, Kevin Constantine, Bryan Trottier, Peter Laviolette, Mike Jarvis — all got whacked. Great stuff at the end, where Steve Serby lists five coaches who thrived in New York and five who crumbled.

• Squiggy Is in the House: Laverne and Shirley Star Now Mariners Scout — What's next? Mr. Bentley as offensive coordinator of the Seahawks? (Thanks, Art)

Take the PK.com Compatability Test

In New York, we're being shown TV commercials for eHarmony.com, an online dating service that's unique on a couple of fronts. Not only is it the first Internet site in three years to buy TV time, but it's the only dating site I've seen that asks users to answer 500 questions. Now that's desperation dedication. I've simpified matters for the female readers out there who wonder if they'd make a good match for me:

1. What is your idea of a romantic evening?
a. A long walk on the beach
b. A long walk on a short pier
c. A long walk to White Castle

2. The most important thing in my life is:
a. My stupid cat
b. My stupid dog
c. My autographed Don Mattingly rookie card

3. If I could choose one superpower, it would be:
a. X-ray vision
b. Bionic muscles
c. Scott Baio's game

4. The person I most rely on for advice is:
a. My mom
b. My best friend
c. Jim Beam

5. I read Playboy for:
a. The articles
b. The hip social commentary
c. Why lie? The porn

6. Before I die, I want to see:
a. An end to world hunger
b. Man walk on Mars
c. Pedro Martinez's arm fall off

7. If I could have a ticket to any event, it would be:
a. A presidential inauguration
b. The Super Bowl
c. Britney Spears' inevitable Playboy photoshoot

8. If a dying child's wish was to see the Mets at Shea, I would:
a. Treat the kid to tickets, hot dogs and souveniers
b. Arrange a clubhouse tour with the Mets before the game
c. Tell the kid he's suffered enough

9. How would you rate George W. Bush's performance as President?
a. Positive
b. Negative
c. That Sammy Sosa deal worked out better

10. The greatest actor the world has ever known is:
a. Humphrey Bogart
b. Marlon Brando
c. Dick Butkus

Now add up your score in the following manner. Score 1 point for every A, two points for every B and three points for every C. Results are as follows:

1-10 points — Have fun sipping cosmos without me
11-20 points — It's not you, it's me
21-30 points — Wanna get hitched?

Stripped of My Manhood, I'm Now Just an Orange

Little did I know while watching Walter Reyes rush for five touchdowns in a 38-12 victory over Notre Dame last Dec. 6 that I was witnessing the final football game ever played by the Syracuse Orangemen. No, my alma mater didn't shut down the program. We're just going by another name.

This week, the Syracuse athletic department announced that its teams will no longer be referred to as Orangemen and Orangewomen. Instead, they shall be called The Orange. SU also revealed a new logo, one that most college sports fans probably won't even recognize as new. Nike has been working on this redesign for two years, which is only one of the confounding aspects of the change. In two years you can build the biggest building in the world. In two years you can get married and have two kids. It doesn't take two years to change a logo.

Institutions modernize logos all the time, but the name change really took us alumni by surprise. Imagine the Duke Blue Devils being referred to a The Blue or the Tulane Green Wave changing its name to The Green. Reaction from Syracuse alumni has ranged from "I don't get it" to "huh?" to "what the fuck did they do that for?"

I expected to find clarity in these press-conference quotes regarding the changes:

Opening statement by director of athletics Jake Crouthamel:
We are going to refer to ourselves as "The Orange." That does not preclude us being represented in print as Orange men or Orange women. It is no longer Orangemen or Orangewomen. I also want to make sure that everyone knows that we are all orange together.

Crouthamel on the fans initial reaction to the change:
Change and transition are often times difficult. As I explained, we have not dropped Orange men and Orange women. We have dropped the connection between them. We will continue to make the distinction, but we are orange together.

Crouthamel on the financial impact of the decision: I want to make it clear that the athletics department does not receive one cent from merchandising and licensing trademarks. For us, this is a very important initiative for the reasons I gave. Financial is not one of them.

So let me get this straight. "Orange men" is OK, but "Orangemen" isn't. And the athletic department won't see an additional cent. Now that's a two-year project if ever I heard of one.

Other Syracuse Links:

• Kurt Vonnegut's 1994 Commencement Address — May 8 marked the 10-year anniversary of my graduation, at which the famous author spoke for the only period of the event during which I wasn't bored out of my ass. Not bad for a guy who almost screwed Thornton Melon with a bad paper in Back to School.

• Third Powell Brother Breaks SU's Lax Scoring Record — First Casey, then Ryan and now Mike have left school as the leading all-time scorer in the country's premier lacrosse program. This week, the No. 4 seed "Orange" go for a astonishing 23rd consecutive appearance in the sports's Final Four.

Other Sports Links:

• Rating the MLB Infields — Bob Matthews of the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle put the Cardinals (Pujols, Womack, Renteria, Rolen) at No. 1, with the Rangers (Teixeira, Soriano, Young, Blalock) also ahead of the No. 3 Yankees (Rodriguez, Jeter, Wilson, Giambi). I stopped reading after that, because there's no way on god's green earth I would ever trade New York's infield straight up for Texas'.

• Steinbrenner is Mr. Softie — A Sports Illustrated subscriber exclusive on the Yankees' owner, who is more sentimental than ever. I love when he gets blubbery after wins, talks about how so-and-so is a warrior and how the fans of New York are so tough. Know why he has the money to spend? Because we have the most fans. Why do we have the most fans? Because the Yankees win. That's how the Dallas Cowboys made money. It's how the Chicago Bulls made money. It's how all sports teams make money. Win.

• Kerry Says Good-Bye to the Kids — A sentimental article in the Daily News on former Giants quarterback Kerry Collins' visit to a the pediatric unit of the Rusk Institute of Rehabilitation Medicine after his release for the team. Collins raised $100,000 for a computer center and pledged $500,000 more for renovations during his time with the Giants, for whom he was always a stand-up guy. He is a model of what second chances can do for someone — and what someone can do with a second chance. (Speaking of Collins, SI.com's Don Banks predicts he'll end up in Oakland.)

• The SportsByBrooks Girls — It's been awhile since a gave Brooks a plug, so why not go with his galleries of gals who help him at bar events?

PK.com Mailbag: My Personal Life

Today we debut the PK.com mailbag, whereby I will answer questions sent in by my readership — technical, political, sports-related, what have you. Long-time reader Dave has some questions that I rarely touch on, but it's fair game, as it will give you more of a complete picture of who I am, should you care:

1. What the hell do you do for a living?
Whatever I want. But I know what you're getting at. Do I have a job? Currently, no. I quit my job as senior producer at TIME.com (TIME magazine's website) — for whom I also did some writing — in February after nearly four years working for a that great company, albeit one that suffers the same struggles as so many in our depressed economy. I wasn't inspired anymore, and I don't blame anyone else for that. Part of it is my nature. I never stayed at any job longer than 2 1/2 years, and I left a couple of gigs after just several months. It's gonna be a big news year, with a close election, the summer Olympics and an ongoing war, but I already did that stuff. So I gave up a good salary, respected coworkers and a windowed office with a couch and cable TV to try something new — to see what I could do with a few self-imposed months off after surviving 8 1/2 years of online media production/writing with nary a layoff.

I'll probably look for a job beginning in June, and I'll most likely look to get back into online sports media. So keep your eyes and ears open, and feel free to pass my resumé around if you know someone who needs a kickass web producer with balls.

If you're wondering why I never mentioned my job before, it's a simple matter of not mixing work and play. I think most webmasters of personal sites are keen to that wise rule.

Do you have a girlfriend?
Nope. I did for a significant part of the life of this site, but not now. If you couldn't tell when that change occurred, then even better. It means I could feel as low as one could possibly get and not drag down this site with my personal problems.

The future Mrs. Katcher is out there somewhere. She doesn't know it yet, but we're gonna have a great life together. And when she arrives, you probably won't hear about it.

I wonder what she's doing right now. Checking out the MLB standings? Having a White Castle cheeseburger? Hopefully not involved in a gang bang.

How do you have so much time to work on this website? Do you have a social life?
The time — maybe an hour a post; five posts a week — comes from not doing things others might do. I don't watch TV, for the most part, though sports and news are almost always on in the background. Perhaps I require a little less sleep than most. If the answers to No. 1 and No. 2 change significantly at any point, you may see this site scaled down a bit — or even completely. It's just a hobby, one that I probably spend an equal amount of time on as playing guitar or participating in a few co-ed sports leagues (softball, football and pool) — other things I rarely mention, but not for any particular reason.

I used to get pissed when people assumed I don't have a social life, as if I never leave the computer. Now I see it as a compliment, as what you see probably looks harder to do than it really is. In the last 12 months, I've been to Puerto Vallarta, Chicago, New Orleans, Nashville, Key West and many parts of Europe. I'll be in Montreal in a few weeks, Hilton Head during the summer, and will almost certainly follow the Yanks to Baltimore in July — none of which I'll do alone. I bought into a Jersey Shore summer house with 20 other people, my apartment is decorated with photos I've taken while not sitting at a computer and, in a letter of recommendation to my co-op board when I purchased my apartment, one couple described me as the "social coordinator" for our circle of friends. But I'm no Hilton brother. Just a regular dude who's always up for a drink, a concert or a ballgame involving a certain distinguished team dressed in pinstripes.

(The accompanying picture was ordered from NakedText.com for $7. Couldn't really think of anything relevant to the mailbag this time around.)

Send your future mailbag questions to paul@paulkatcher.com.

Do Straight Porno Theaters Have Undercover Cops?

A lot has happened since I've been gone. The Yanks have been tearing it up, Friends (which I never watched) ended its run of appealing only to women, and Dan Renzi from Real World Miami got busted for roughing up the suspect (not Iraqi) in a gay porno theater.

Dan provides a witty true/false account of what happened on the evening he was hauled in by an undercover vice-squad cop. And, of course, I have a few questions:

• Assuming the cop is not homosexual, how low on the police totem pole do you have to be to be assigned the task of watching gay porn and spying customers' peckers?

• What is it that porn theater-goers are expected to be doing? Eating popcorn and concentrating on the plot twists?

• Has there ever been a high-profile bust at a straight porn theater? Do vice squads inordinately target gays?

• If you're a cop, is it possible to look yourself in the mirror after asking for an autograph of a long-ago MTV cast member who is now being troubled for doing something millions do every day in a place where everyone has a basic understanding of what's going to occur?

• Why is society is protecting gay men from seeing other men's penises when I had to basically quit working out at New York Sports Clubs after reporting, repeatedly, that it was impossible for a straight man to feel comfortable there (what with the hands disappearing under towels) and that when I asked Equinox if the steam room was safe for straight guys, the recruiter said, "It is before 9 p.m."?

• Is this the most news a Real World cast member has made since Eric Nies hosted The Grind? Where's Judd's comics? Where's John's country music albums? Where's Kelley's Playboy shoot?

Dan, as you long-time PK.com readers might recall, made my list of favorite Real World personalities, if for nothing else than tearing Maria a new ... oh, I can't say it ... when she opened up his mail. I was never so glued to the set, except to anticipate how Joe was gonna kiss his girlfriend, who was two feet taller than him.

Anyway, I just want to say that I'm behind Dan all the way. Wait, scratch that. I'm off to the side quite a bit, but I support him, because I see this arrest as just another method of imposing beliefs on someone else, not to mention the shoddy practice of a police staffer asking for autographs. How tacky.

Other Web Finds:

• Real Band Names — Metal Sludge provides a list of actual bands that may be coming to your area. "You wanted the best, you got the best! The hottest band in the world ... Jesus Chrysler Supercar!"

• Photoshopped Celebrity Fatties — Digitally-altered images that make such celebs as Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Love Hewitt and Halle Berry look like they've been trapped inside a Krispy Kreme for 20 years.

• Photos: Britney Spears Tanning on Roof — I can't believe it's really her, but she does always have those smokes nearby. (And, hey, if you're into Not Safe for Work stuff, follow this Spanish thread that debunks a phony Britney nude photo that supposedly leaked from what would have been a highly anticipated Playboy photoshoot.)

• Photos: Hardcore Bodybuilding — RetroCrush provides some hilarious commentary to 1985 photos of bodybuilders, including one that resembles Wayne Gretzky.

• Photos: Playboy Club Tour Party — The best thing to happen in Boston since Bucky Dent's home run. (Thanks, Art)

• 10 Questions for Rodney Dangerfield — A TIME Q&A with one of my favorite actors/comedians of all-time. Unfortunately, one of the questions surrounds the 82-year-old's sex life.

Review: Contiki European Magic Group Tour

Get busy living or get busy dying. So says Red in The Shawshank Redemption. If your preference leans toward the former, then you could do worse than to take a vacation with Contiki, a group tour service for 18-to-35-year-olds. I was 12 days older on May 7 than I was on April 26, but the amount of living I experienced in that short period — visiting eight countries, including stops in London, Amsterdam, Munich, Venice and Paris — far surpasses a typical two-week for me. And we don't exactly sit on our hands in New York.

What follows are observations from my experience, which are unique to my background and way of life. But perhaps this review will help answer questions for those considering such a whirlwind, group tour. If you have any further questions, you can always shoot an e-mail to paul@paulkatcher.com.

You may also want to see my gallery of more than 100 photos posted on the trip.

EUROPEAN MAGIC ITINERARY
Contiki's website has all the European Magic details. The group assembles in London and heads straight to Amsterdam early in the morning, with a stop for lunch at a rest area in Belgium. The only two-night stops are in Venice and Paris, so you're on the go just about every day, waking up around 7 a.m., having breakfast at the hotel at 7:30 a.m. and getting on the bus 30 minutes later. A typical day includes a 3-hour drive, a 45-minute lunch at a rest stop, followed by a two-hour drive and hotel check-in. On most nights, set-menu dinners are at the hotel within one hour after check-in. Dinner lasts one hour, and the tour heads into town.

THE GROUP
We had 41 people out of a maximum of 50, consisting of seven couples, with the rest about even guys and girls. They ranged from as young as a 19-year-old skater who'd never been on a plane to as old as a 36-year-old married man with two kids. (Yeah, I know it's only supposed to be for people up to 35.) About 17 were Canadians (mostly from the Toronto area and Newfoundland) with a handful of Americans and Aussies, a few New Zealanders, a few chicks from Japan and one Brit. In a sense, the bus was as diverse as the places we were going to visit.

There was a lot of groaning from the men about the number of couples and supposed lack of single chicks. Those more familiar than I with Contiki had been wowed by the stories from guys who'd experienced trips that were of the more typical 60-40 or even 70-30 girl-guy splits. The only story I'd heard was of an American who'd hooked up with six Aussie broads on one tour. On the day I left, I perused several Contiki message boards and it seemed like hitting spring break with an all-girls college. It was immediately clear that wasn't going to be the case with this group. I can't say I wasn't disappointed, but I know better than to trust photos on travel sites, and that wasn't my No. 1 priority anyway. That was to see a continent I'd only read about and seen photos of, but when you're riding on a gondola in Venice with five dudes, you start to wonder whether you picked the wrong week.

My problem with the group as a whole was not its gender ratio but it's vitality. Seemingly every night, from red-light district of Amsterdam to the beer hall Germany to the vibrant city of Paris, I held out hope that people would bust of their shells. It never happened, not compared to what I'm used to. On the ride into Amsterdam, on our first night together, our tour guide informed us that the bus would be returning at 10 p.m., one hour after our 90-minute candlelight booze cruise was to end. Our option was to take a $20 cab ride home. To me, that wasn't an "option," rather what you're supposed to do. So when she asked for a show of hands of who was planning to return with the bus, I almost fell out of my seat when I saw about 15 hands go up. How did someone like me, who's been known to drink till 2 a.m. on school nights, come to the same conclusion with these people that this particular trip was a good idea?

I shared a table with eight other people at the world-famous Hofbrauhaus in Munich. We sat down at 6:30 p.m. and only three of the eight ordered a second beer. So figure it's around 8 p.m. and more than half the table has said uncle. Two of them went back to the hotel to work out. I must've missed something in the brochure, because I didn't see "Treadmill at the Holiday Inn" as one of the must-sees in Germany. I moved to another table, and about half the group did rock out for much of the evening.

On our first night in Italy, we had dinner and drinks at the hotel in Noale, with only one night-time option, a next-door club that opened at midnight. Again, this wasn't anything short of mandatory for me. There's no way I'm spending an entire evening in a hotel when I have such limited time in a foreign country that I wanted to explore and experience. Ten others agreed with me. All had a good time — even those who stayed — but wouldn't it have been much better if everyone was getting loose at the club?

On our final night in Paris, we were more familiar with where some action was. Specifically in the Bohemian section, where most of the group went to the Moulin Rouge. I instead had dinner and drinks with a few others, all of whom returned with the bus at 11 p.m. I stayed out in a couple of pubs hoping to run into others from the group. I didn't. So I was solo and forced to grab a subway train before it closed, lest get stuck with a $50 cab bill that would have been no problem to split four ways. When I returned to the hotel at 1 a.m., I was the last one back. Half were in bed. Half were drinking at the hotel bar, 20 minutes outside of one of the most spectacular cities on earth ... whose bars were still open. Many reasoned that late nights had been dead no matter where we'd gone. This was true, but every night has its own possibilities, only if you give it a chance.

The last night, on our return to London, around 20 of us pounded beers, shared our thoughts on the trip and dished a little bit, knowing we'd likely never see each other again. We did seem to be enjoying each other's company more as the days went by. That's natural, and I was indeed sad to say goodbye to many of them, just days after thinking that wasn't possible. They were all good people — there was only one that turned off a bunch — though I wish there was a little more spunk, on the whole, late night. During the day, they were perfectly pleasant, save for a few who were so quiet and meek I wondered where they got the nerve to embark on such an excursion. At times I have been paralyzed by shyness, so I can't really blame people for the way they're wired.

THE HOTELS
The quality of the hotels were fine enough. I paid about $100/day for transportation, breakfast, dinner (minus three nights) and a single room, so I knew we wouldn't be shacking up in the Ritz-Carlton. Only two or three had an American news channel, public computers and that American hotel staple, pay-per-view porn. A couple were missing shampoo. I would still consider all a good value overall, for the mere fact that they were clean and the price couldn't be beat, all told. Unfortunately, the hotels were all located about 20 minutes out of town. Combine that with a strict dinner time and menu, and you're looking at spending some major bucks if you choose to take a much-needed nap instead of joining the group for a meal shortly after arrival and a ride into town thereafter.

THE FOOD
All breakfasts are in the hotel before departure. Lunches, aside from one day each in Amsterdam, Venice and Paris, are in transit at rest stops. And all dinners, aside from one night each in Munich, Venice and Paris, are at the hotel. So not a lot of freedom there. It was all perfectly edible, but there's little opportunity to get knocked dead by foreign cuisine. My recommendation is to arrive in Venice with a couple of places in mind, so as not to be reliant on a selection system akin to throwing a dart at a wall.

LAUNDRY
Contiki is strict about it 20-kilo limit on luggage, and so you have to be judicious about what to bring, especially considering the varying weather from place to place. Only the Holiday Inn outside Munich had a pool, and it closed at 10 p.m. — when most were still at the beer hall — so leave the bathing suit at home. You need comfortable clothes for the bus, something decent for the club in Switzerland, and anything rain-repellent for London. This being spring, it did happen to rain just about every place we were at. Most locals in the Italian club wore jeans. You'll be good with jeans, sneakers, one pair of dress pants, decent-looking shoes, a jacket and a host of short- and long-sleeved shirts. There is almost no chance to do laundry. The hotels offering such services wanted around $4 to wash a t-shirt. By the end of the trip, I wasn't sure if I was wearing my clothes or if they were wearing me. You just have to deal, and don't tell the person next to you how many times you've worn the same pair of pants.

THE CITIES

In order, here's where we visited:

London, England
Ah, I'll just buy an umbrella in London, I thought as I departed my building in New York knowing I'd left mine upstairs. That decision saved me a couple of minutes at home, but it cost me 40 minutes of sitting under the awning of a hotel I wasn't even staying at, lost and waiting out a powerful rainstorm that curtailed my exploration of the Russell Square area. We'd just had a Contiki orientation, a half-attended meeting in which we were told that the tour started at 6:45 a.m., which is closer to when I usually go to bed and not wake up. I met a bunch of people in the local pubs, though no one from our group, and drank enough $5 pints to pass out in my clothes. Yep, I'm 31 years old, and I'm still an idiot.
History: Wikipedia's London Entry

Amsterdam, Holland
I can't be pegged as a pervert on the first night, I thought as I strolled the red-light district and its unique style of window-shopping: whores in lingerie offering "suck and fuck" for 50 Euro, which figures to about $60. Let me assure you you'll spend more than $60 to have sex with any New York chick half as good-looking as some of these broads. Of course, you wouldn't have to roll around in sheets just sweated in by another stranger. So I passed, though I did spend some time as a chemical mixologist, partaking in Amsterdam's other pastime, along with about a dozen others in The Grasshopper. Around 2 a.m., I couldn't feel my legs and my head felt like it was in an Ivan Putski headlock. I should have stuck with the beers and extended my night.
History: Wikipedia's Amsterdam Entry

St. Goar, Germany
But what am I supposed to do now? I wondered as the hotel owner closed his bar at midnight. In this sleepy town, there were no options. Bedtime with no American TV. Granted, almost the entire group had been drinking heavily since a wine-tasting event earlier in the evening. We rode into St. Goar along the picturesque Rhine River. I'd spent maybe five hours on the bus that day and I didn't want to get off. That's how nice it was. At night, however, it was St. Bore. It was clear the only reason we stopped was because of limitations on the amount of time the driver was legally able to put in each day.

Munich, Germany
Buuuuuuuuuurp. Four liters was all I could do at the Hofbrauhaus. That's 128 fluid ounces, or almost 11 American beers. One or two guys had six liters, including one who was unaccounted for late in the night while his wife was believed to be asleep. Now that's love. We were advised to not sit at a table with a reserved sign or a family crest above it. You should have seen how scared we were picking out a table, like a gang of German locals was going to swing 18th century weapons if we sat down in the wrong place. Wake-up the next morning was not till 8:15 a.m., the latest of the trip by an hour, no doubt an acknowledgement of having been dropped off at a beer hall the evening before.
History: Wikipedia's Munich Entry

Innsbruck, Austria
Pizza, beer AND those snow-capped mountains make quite an outdoor lunch, I thought, during our two-hour pit-stop in Innsbruck, Austria, a place that boasts perhaps the cleanest air I've ever breathed. Certainly unlike The Grasshopper in Amsterdam. Apparently, there aren't enough women to grope there, and that's why Arnold Schwarzenegger left.
History: Wikipedia's Innsbruck Entry

Venice, Italy
This is a great place if you have gas problems, I surmised as I bounced around thousands of tourists through tight quarters, window-shopping in hundreds of restaurants in the smelliest romantic place on Earth, complete with pigeons that are as ugly there as they are here. Seriously, is there anything more humiliating that having birds crap on the head of a statue of you all day long? The Italians had character and a bit of flair, so I had to buy at least something from the clothing shops. I decided on a black jacket with grey highlights, adorned back and front with the word "DAINESE," which I nor anyone else knew the translation of. So there were a lot of penis jokes. Turns out it's a company that manufactures protective clothing for motorcyclists. So at least I wasn't running around Paris notifying passers-by that I need a man right now.
History: Wikipedia's Venice Entry

Lucerne, Switzerland
Hello! Is there life out there? I wondered as I walked the streets of Lucerne at 1 a.m., alone, after the group had called it quits, except maybe for a couple of chicks in the group who had boyfriends at home and were last seen being groped by Swiss men. In 15 minutes I passed maybe five people and 10 cars. Some chick appeared out of nowhere and asked for money. I said no, because, after all, it's not like I was still in Amsterdam or anything, and she bolted. I mean ran like the wind around the corner and into a hotel. Thinking I had maybe two minutes before some crackhead boyfriend came out and attacked me, I grabbed a cab and called it quits. Earlier in the day, we took a ride to the top of Stanserhorn, the 6,000-foot mountain. Up that high, it's hard to get your mind off the Yankees' payroll.
History: Wikipedia's Lucerne Entry

Paris, France
The most spectacular sights in the world, I thought of our two 45-minute guided bus tours through Paris at night. We'd just gotten into town, and Contiki's own first-rate driver and tour manager introduced us to the city, with a trip to the top of the Eiffel tower in between. I knew immediately I was at one of the world's greatest destinations, a city with as much history as any around the globe, a complete validation of the trip. I still passed on the Moulin Rouge optional excursion. After passing on the company of the Amsterdam hotties for $60, I wasn't about to see topless Frenchies sing the can-can for $150.
History: Wikipedia's Paris Entry

SO WHERE ARE THE CRAZY-ASS STORIES?
Don't look at me. I lamented at dinner on the final night that there wasn't even any juicy gossip among the group. One chick says, "Oh, there's a ton of gossip." Now, I'm pretty observant. I keep my eyes and ears open for everything, and I stayed up among the latest every night. So it was with a bit of shock in my voice that I asked her to share some.

"Well, I saw so-and-so and so-and-so kissing in the hall."

"Yeah, and..." I said, expecting a part about her waking up in the next room to the sound of a broken headboard.

"Well, that's about it."

Quick, someone call Liz Smith! Obviously, I'm not moving out of New York anytime soon.

I commented to another guy of similar age about how the French strip clubs appeared to offer sex shows, not just dancing. He said he'd never seen two live women, as he described, "go full on." Someone get this guy to a bachelor party, a trip to Hedonism, on a porn set. Something. So did he go to a club? No. (I didn't either. Even walking the streets of Paris alone, with a very slim chance of running into someone I knew back home, I didn't want to walk through a dark door into a business known for blood-sucking its customers. Instead of menacing bouncers, these places had recruiters at the door, overly friendly staffers literally grabbing people on the sidewalk and trying to coax them in. I had to put a Barry Sanders-like spin move on one guy after we wouldn't let go of my arm. But I like to tease these guys, too, saying stuff like, "Oh man, I don't know if I should really be doing stuff like that." I think he offered me a free drink with an admission charge of five Euros, with a promise of sex shows and the opportunity for a private Russian massage. It's easy now to say I should have at least gone in to look, but I didn't speak the language, and I imagined it was pretty easy to run up a bill for something without even knowing it.)

So for best story, I gotta give props to the 19-year-old in the group, picked up by two Italian females who drove by him and on his skateboard in Noale. He was dropped off hours later by four chicks. We were all pinned to the hotel bar, because the club next door hadn't opened yet. We gave him a rousing ovation as he walked through the door. I asked where he went, and he said, "We drove to Choritzo." OK, so he visited a Spanish sausage. And what did you do with the girls? "I had a spritzer." He must've meant blowjob and just mispronounced it as a wuss drink. Later he commented that he felt bad about the rest of us being limited to Noale and Venice, as he'd seen so much more of Italy, and we definitely missed out. God bless that boy. Seriously, the kid had a personality that trumped half the group combined.

Oh, and he's also a real estate shark. Upon seeing the rotting buildings in Venice, he said that he would renovate them because people pay higher prices for nice places than dumps. Get this kid signed up for The Apprentice 2.

THE PISS OF MY LIFE
Facing a $50 cab ride if I didn't get out of Paris soon, I left a bar at 12:15 a.m. (in other words, way fucking early) to grab a subway. Did I happen to visit the men's room first, even though I hadn't gone for 2 1/2 beers? No. Did I catch the subway going in the correct direction? No. Did I have to piss like a racehorse with seemingly no chance to go for another 45 minutes? Yes. Folks, we were about to test the limits of the human bladder.

I'm already at the point of pained facial expressions, confident in the fact that I was now going in the right direction, not so happy about the two transfers yet to go. Of course I'm standing on the train. Sitting down would have been a disaster, especially for my pants. I'm doing the whole mind-game thing, thinking about anything but liquids, wondering how many people on the train are wearing deodorant. By transfer one, I'm starting to sweat like drivers do when the gas tank is a half-inch past empty. At transfer two, just a few stops away from relief, I run into three security guards. The train service has closed for the night. Holy fucking shit.

I get outside and immediately see a sign for "Toilettes." Woah, this is too good to be true. It was. A right here, a left there, and, to my disappointment, a trip back down the stairs to the subway, which, as I have just explained, is closed. Even more painful than my bladder about to explode was the fact that I could have evidently pissed at an earlier subway stop. (NYC subways don't have public restrooms. And for good reason.)

That's it, I'm pissing on the first building I see, I said to myself as I climbed the stairs back to the street. Public urination ticket or not, my health is at stake. So I look behind me and what's the first building I see? The Louvre! The fucking Louvre, built as a fortress in the 13th century and probably not the best place on which to take a leak.

Like any sane person about to decorate himself with a gallon of urine, I wave my arms frantically at the cabs driving by. Whoosh. Whoosh. They don't give a shit. Turns out I had to meet one at a taxi stand, which I circled the block for until a French dude helped me with directions. I get into a cab with an Asian driver and point to the address of my hotel on a sheet. We're off. We're making good time, but I'm shaking and sweating in the back, with my eyes crossed as tightly as my legs. The driver keeps looking back at me, wondering if the crank junkie in the back was gonna pay the fare.

We arrive, I throw him some cash and run to the lobby. The men's room is free, and I get introduced to S&M, having never felt such pain and pleasure simultaneously. My lower abdomen hurt for 10 minutes even after relief. Thank god someone had a beer waiting for me.

VARIOUS ODDS 'N' ENDS

The 'Holy Shit' Moment — Much of the scenery was so spectacular that the long bus rides weren't much of a problem. But the only time I looked out the window and said, "holy shit!" was when we drove past Lake Como in Italy. A lot of oohs and aahs for that place.

To Your Health, I Think — During our wine tasting in St. Goar, the host had us make a cheer before each drink. It sounded something like "sum wohl," and he said it meant, "to your health." I said that if I ran one of these things in New York and 41 Germans came through, I would have them say, "I like little boys." Not like they'd know the difference. And sure enough, according to Alta Vista's online translator, " to your health" in German is "zu Ihrer Gesundheit," and I know we sure as shit didn't say that.

Don't I Decide When the Night Ends? — After a full Sunday in Venice, the bus returned to our hotel in Noale at 9:15 p.m. The club next door would remain closed. The hotel bar was closed. I walked down the street, only to find a few gelato shops still open, but with employees starting to put away chairs. It's 10 p.m., nothing's open and there's no computer, no guitar, no PlayStation 2 and no English spoken on any hotel TV station. Aside from reading my book, the night was done, and there was nothing I could have done about it. A very foreign experience, indeed, for a guy living in the a city with 4 a.m. last calls, 24-hour diners and bodegas, and a non-stop mass-transit system. I always say, "I do whatever I want, whenever I want to do it." Not so in Noale. I left like I'd stopped living, having lost all power of choice.

Teaching the Japanese Girls English — The Japanese girls were a lot of fun, bouncing into each other clumsily, giggling endlessly and needing to be explained all sorts of English. And I really don't eat sashimi. Anyway, one of them had an electronic translator, so it should come as no surprise that one of the guys was typing in "cunnilingus" at the hotel bar outside Paris. I suggested "Angry Pirate" and "Rusty Trombone" (definitions here) and those fell on deaf ears, with about 50% of my "material" for the week.

Would You Pose in Front of the Vietnam Memorial? — Before leaving France, we stopped by the Vimy Ridge Memorial, dedicated to more than 60,000 Canadians who lost their lives in World War I. Quite a solemn place. Grass is roped off and there are signs to keep a respectful silence. Picture-taking is acceptable, but I saw at least two Canadian couples posing with their arms around each other as other group members borrowed their cameras. Thank god no one asked me, because I may have pointed out that this wasn't the Eiffel Tower for fuck's sake and you don't take "couples" photos in front of a fucking war memorial!

Tipping — I tipped for drinks in London and Amsterdam, the $1 or so per drink. After seeing that I was perhaps the only person doing this, the only tip I offered subsequently was hit two to three inches behind the ball when you're in a sand trap. Except for dinner and cab rides.

GRADING CONTIKI
I really could not have been more pleased with the travel company. Our driver, Adrian, and tour guide, Raquel, were knowledgable, accommodating, mistake-free, personable and more fun than half the group. Throughout the trip, Raquel explained the history and culture of the countries and cities, gave us a brush-up lesson in how to say "please" and "thank you." Aside from one booze cruise host not being at his boat — not Contiki's fault — I didn't notice any problems with logistics. Hotel check in lasted all of one minute. Check outs as quick as dropping keys on the counter (unless you ordered porn, and in which case you would have really stood out). I would give them an A, with the only qualifier being that the location of the hotels and the amount of hours spent on the bus (around 60 for the trip) aren't stressed in the marketing materials for a reason. But a look at the price and a map of the excursion would lead you to believe that you weren't in for a 30-minute bullet train to the Ritz-Carlton.

OPTIONALS
At seemingly every stop, the group had to option to participate in a Contiki-organized event for an additional fee. A booze cruise in Amsterdam was around $25.00. Lifts atop Stanserhorn and the Eiffel Tower were around $10. An 8x10 group photo in front of the tower was $12. (I passed on that one, but it really came out great, gray sky notwithstanding.) The Moulin Rouge was $150. I passed on that, too, but you're either into it or not. I would suggest doing everything you can afford, though you could pass on the dinner in Venice if you have a better option in mind.

AND IN CONCLUSION
I feel great having done this trip. My life is fuller and richer than when I left, even if it wasn't as rockin' and filled with crazy stories as I'd hoped. It is what it is. It's cheap and you'll see a lot in a relatively short period. So you have to take the good with the bad, which is not being able to do everything in every city and not living like royalty. I wished a couple of friends were with me, so maybe you want to push the idea on yours. Apart from that, I would recommend this trip to any curious single or couple who doesn't have the resources to put together such a detailed excursion alone. And it does help to have a bunch of people to talk to and hang with on the long rides from town to town. If you're thinking about it, go for it.

Europe Trip Update: Photos Posted

More than 100 photos from my Contiki European Magic group tour are now posted. I'll be adding captions as time permits, but they are ordered as such (links go to the first pictures from each city):

• London
• Amsterdam
• St. Goar, Germany
• Munich
• Innsbruck, Austria
• Venice
• Lucerne, Switzerland
• Paris

I typically place the best photos toward the front, but I thought a sequential arrangement was better here. Sorry about the gray skies. I didn't ask for rain every day.

A full review of the trip will be posted Monday and then you we'll get back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Europe Trip Update: New York City, U.S.A.

Back home safe and sound. What a whirlwind 12 days. Totally worth it. Check back tomorrow for pics of the canals of Venice, the mountains of Switzerland, the amazing architecture in Paris, the beer halls of Germany, the effects of mixing chemicals in Amsterdam and more.

Whew.

Europe Trip Update: London

The coach has returned to London and the Contiki European Magic Tour is officially complete. All that's left is to spend the remainder of my pounds in one of the loal pubs and count down the hours till I return to New York. ETA on the Upper West Side is 5 p.m.

Spent last night in the pon shop-laden area of Paris that houses the Moulin Rouge. Most of the group went to the show, and I had dinner and drinks with some others who opted out. The bus went home at 11 p.m., leaving us the option to take the Metro or cab home later, and -- you're not going to believe this -- I was the only one who wanted to continue drinking at the English/Irish style pubs. A few went to an overpriced, empty club and bailed quickly.

Got back to the hotel around 1 a.m., just in time to narrowly avoid a bladder explosion and saw 20 people in the group drinking in the hotel lounge. And that, in a nutshell, was the defining moment of the trip. Forty-one people in the group. We're in motherfucking Paris. Twenty are up in their rooms. Twenty are in a hotel lounge that's not even in Paris. And there's me shaking my head. And it's not like everyone was a drip. I just didn't understand it.

Actually, it didn't define the entire trip. I had a great time and have no regrets. I accomplished my No. 1 goal: to add a lot to the scrapbook of my life.

Again, I'm planning to post pics Saturday (be warned, almost every one was under a gray sky) and a huge report planned for Monday.

Europe Trip Update: Paris

On our second day in Paris after arriving yesterday afternoon in time for dinner. Then we had a 45-minute guided tour on our coach, followed by a trip atop the Eiffel Tower, followed by another 45-minute coach tour. Today, before 1 p.m., I have seen Napoleon's tomb, flags and medals captured from the Nazis, and the Mona Lisa.

The words I would use to describe this place as ones I or any self-respecting man would rarely use: grand, spectacular, awe-inspiring, picturesque ... ah, I need to stop. I've shot 100 pics of Paris, and I still have 24 hours to go till we head off to London for the final night of my trip. I'm back in the States late Friday afternoon and my friends had better be clearing next week for me to drink with them.

Alas, Paris appears to be another shut-down city come nighttime. I ain't a clubber, and there just aren't the late-night bars I'm wired for. Again, we're staying on the outskirts of town, and again I went looking for action and again I returned to the hotel, though at least this place had the bar open for the dozen of us (out of 41) who didn't call it quits at 11 p.m.

Someone in the group ran into another Contiki tour last night. The stats on their 20-camping tour: 51 people, one couple, 7 guys, 42 women. I don't even want to think about what their Amsterdam visit must've been like.

OK, it's off to shop on the Champs Elysees, take pics of the Arc de Triumphe, refresh and go out to the busy square where much of the group will be seeing the Moulin Rouge. The rest of us will be eating like champs and getting shit-faced.

Expect one or two more updates from London. I should get the pictures up Saturday -- gotta sort through more than 200. And then a huge, huge report on Monday at the latest. I'll make sure it's worth your time.

Europe Trip Update: Lucern, Switzerland

It's 7 a.m. here in Lucern and I have five minutes. Paris awaits (eight hours of bus ride).

First the good. Lucern is very pretty, with what now seems a typical European shopping district, where they sell chocolate, watches and other shit I can get at home. Had a half hour atop one of the 6,000-foot mountains -- I'll check names and shit when I get home and have time for a real review -- and took some of the best pics of the trip. The sky was pretty gray, though, which is a bummer considering I had one day and will almost certainly never be back. But you never know.

Now the bad. The booze cruise was cancelled because of some screw-up with the arangements. So about 20 of us (about half) went to a pub and then a club to get our drink on with ... virtually no one. Unless you count 10 guys. Nice place, lather seats and shit. I'm wearing clothes I hate to wear, listening to music I hate to hear (Vanilla Ice, Beach Boys, MC Hammer - I'm fucking serious). So when everyone decides to call it quits, I head out for something alive. A bar seat. A conversation with someone who's not on vacation. In 15 minutes of walking, I saw as many cars and people combined. Dead did not do the place justice after 1 a.m. But it is what it is. It ain't home, and they have nice watches, chocolate and mountains.

On to Paris. I'm almost begging the French to fuck with me. One of my favorite buddies on the trip is a 32-year-old Navy guy and he's chomping at the bit. But, like everywhere else, I have high hopes for Paris. After two nights of combing the streets for life and finding nothing, I'm hoping those Frenchies come through.

(Remember, the disclaimer. I have five minutes to write. No time to spell-check, edit, nothing.)

Europe Trip Update: Venice

Typing away in Lucen, Switzerland with an update about our day in Venice on Sunday.

I thought Venice would be a quiet, classy, romantic place. Instead, it felt more like Times Square than my image of Italy, as it was bustling with thousands of tourists milling about a maze of shops. I had to at least buy something, so now I'm the proud owner of a $300 black-and-gray typical Eurotrash jacket, one of those short F-1 racing-looking things that I'll probably wear twice. I'll have to post pics of me modeling it.

Once the tour buses starting leaving in the late afternoon and evening, it was easier to breathe, and I got a better sense of the place's attraction. We piled the maximum six people into a gondola ride, but at $150 for 45 minutes, as quoted to one American, it's gotta to be, to some, as unsettling as relaxing. A lot of the guys in the group were unimpressed with the place. Even though some of the buildings were absolutely rotting - not to mention the mild stench from the water - I did kinda like Venice. You gotta be in a shopping mood, with breaks for coffee and lunch. Would I take a new bride there for a honeymoon? No fucking way. Unless that's where Alyssa Milano really wants to go. But wouldn't we instead go to Milano?

Afterward, we headed back to our hotel in Noale, where the next-door nightclub was closed, the hotel bar was closed, the fucking town was closed. It was 9:30 p.m. and I had absolutely nothing to do. I walked as far from the hotel as I could and still feel safe, and I don't even think I could have gotten arrested in that town. This was made easier by the fact that I could barely stand up after a 15-hour day of buses, ferries and walking around. So I finished the baseball/business book Moneyball (review to come) and got some well-needed sleep before today's 6:30 a.m. wake-up call.

I just got off a Swiss mountain that produced amazing pictures. Tonight, a booze cruise and clubbing awaits. And then it's off to Paris tomorrow.

Europe Trip Update: Noale, Italy

It's a little before noon in Venice, where we arrived into town this morning, and I can hardly stand up. In bed at 3:30 a.m. Group wake-up call at 6:45 a.m. Thank god I have practice in these matters.

Left Munich yesterday and made a two-hour stop in Innsbruk, Austria. It had the cleanest air I've ever breathed and one of the most spectacular spring views. Plenty of small shops and cafes, plus a little park, where you can sit outside under a blue sky surrounded by snow-capped mountains. I expect those pics to come out quite well.

Then it was off to Italy, where we arrived at our hotel in Noale around 6 p.m. Tought I was going to be in Venice? Me too. But I guess that's how Contiki makes these trips affordable, by settling the groups out of major cities and shuttling them in and out. The tour bus driver took a well-deserved night off, and we didn't really have many options, other than to drink at the hotel after dinner and hit the next-door club when it opened at midnight.

You would think that going to the club would be a no-brainer, but only about 10 (out of 41) of us went. The rest stayed at the hotel and got plastered. It was a typical club, with a mix or American and European dance music. It was also an Italian sausagefest, with guys outnumbering gals something like 5-1. I hope those 20 consecutive guys in the conga line were gay, because that's a miserable existence otherwise.

So that's my Robby Robot boring-ass report for the day. I'm seeing a lot of cool shit. Can't say it's been the wildest party experience in my life. There's about 10 people in the group who don't speak. One of the dudes is wearing the same t-shirt for what I think is the third day in a row, so that'll be fun to monitor. But they're all pleasant enough. Time to stroll through the shops of Venice. Ciao.

Europe Trip Update: Munich

I'm on another fucked up computer. Bear with me.

It's 8:30 a.m. in Munich and we leave for Venice in a bit. Those of you who commented on leaving the group are right. I feel like I'm hitting only tourist spots with people who've never seen anything in their lives. That's generalizing, and I should't do that, but I have almost no time to write what I want.

Went to a famous German beer hall last night and had four liters. When I heard them play Country Roads and New York, New York, I knew I was in the wrong place. I didn't come here to listen to music that would be considered cheesy even back home.

Got back to the hotel bar around midnight, and some of our pack was concerned for one of the drunken guys who was missing. I was like, "Who gives a shit. He's probably having a good time." I guess his wife thought it a good idea to leave him alone in a foreighn country after six liters of beer.

The cab ride home last night was in a Mercedes. Pretty rockin'. The rest of Munich is pretty old and pretty nice. Not the most rocking town. You think about war a lot here.

I should get some breakfast now. I am sorry this all reads like I have no brain. I really feel dumb over here, not knowing languages and some of the ways things work. I appreciate all your comments and e-mails. I wish my friends were with me. I appreciate now how much I love to write, but it's hard now. Anyway, go Yanks and know that I am doing well here and will kick your ass with pictures and a real write-up when I get back.