I Have Enough Friends

I just sat down to eat at Burnham's Burgers for my lunch today.  I was alone but quite happy to watch YouTube as I ate my egg mushroom burger.  As I am munching on my food,  I see someone I know who is alone as well.  We have known each other a long time.  We exchanged pleasantries and he sat down away from me with his back turned.  When I finished I said goodbye and he said goodbye and that was  it.
I reflected as I walked away,  shuffling with fake confidence on my still improving right knee.  What was I to that person? What was that person to myself?  Friends? Friends would sit down and eat together. We would enquire into each other's lives.  We would talk about minutiae, or deep thoughts. I felt no such compulsion to be at the same table in the same way he felt no desire to share with me his innermost secrets.

But we are not enemies.  At least,  I don't think we are.  I know he is part of a group of people who regard me with emotions ranging from disdain to indifference.  Bit he has always been cordial and polite.  I have never heard of him saying a bad word to anyone,  much less about me.  He doesn't roll like that.

So what exactly are we to each  other?  Colleagues?  The TESOL Community is now far too large to be friends just because you're both foreigners in a strange land trying to do an unappreciated job. Acquaintances? We have both been part of sports leagues and dramatic events.  And yet, we never hung out.

We are Facebook friends,  that number you can either  choose to let define you or not.  People you have known your whole life,  or people you met at a bar last night are giving the same station.  Yes,  you can partition your friend groups in Facebook.  No,  I don't do that.  Who has the time and the inclination to breakdown their association?

And yet.  What am I to that guy? Probably nothing important. If I was,  I reason,  he would try to get to know me better.  The fact he hasn't tells me he has no pressing desire or need.  He has enough friends.  Good for him.

If you asked a younger version if me if you could have a finite number of friends,  he would have scrunched up his face and snuffed the suddenly confusing air. Too many friends,  are you kidding me? Nowadays,  I can say I have enough friends.

I am confident with my picks.  I have multiple circles that are interwoven and autonomous.  I have different interests represented.  I have respect and love and joy and connection.  I can lose touch without fear of losing friendship.  I have colleagyes and Acquaintances as well.  But really,  I don't worry about being just another Facebook friend in the crowd.

I have enough friends.

The ELT's Guide to The Godfather.

If I have learned one thing in my time in Korea, when Anne wants something it is usually a good idea to do it. I am joking. But not really. She has been my mentor since I was a week old TEFL n00b and I am lucky enough to consider her to be my best friend. SO, if she wants The Godfather's guide to ELT, you had better believe that is happening.


Cue the violins, and Puzo fonting....

Michael Corleone: Fredo, you're my older brother, and I love you. But don't ever take sides with anyone against the Family again. Ever.

My classroom is my home and my students are my family. Rule two in my classroom is no fighting. If they hit each other, or call each other names or act in a way that I find akin to bullying, I stop them and explain that we are a team. We live or die as a team. Seriously, like Ben Stiller says, There is no time for no Lauryn Hills.

If your student are your family, don't kiss them.

Peter Clemenza: Leave the gun. Take the cannoli. 

This adlibbed, off the cuff remark occurs after Clemenza's man has killed someone. The gun is no longer needed. The food is still a necessary part of Clemenza's day. Pick and choose your ELT weapons in a similar fashion. Do not get tied to one set of lesson plans. It gets boring for both you and your students. By choosing only the correct ELT tools for each individual lesson, with its individual issues, you can make the individuals learning perform better.

Don't shoot kids. THAT should be on EPIK orientation.

Michael Corleone: [to Sonny] It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business. 
Some kids are little shits and that is just how they do. It's not about you and it's not about your lesson. They act that way to everyone they meet. Some kids are dumb. It's not about you or your lessons. Let's be clear, you should ABSOLUTELY do everything in your power to make these kids perform better. However, when that bell rings, you have to remove them from your mind. They removed you from their life equation;you have to do the same.

"Ohhhhh, I had a rough kickin it in class, kids out here are kicking my ass, But I clear my head when I'm playing banjo, yes my name is Marlon Brando-oh."

Sonny: We don't discuss business at the table. 
There is a time and a place for everything.Planning a lesson when you are in the classroom with your kids and during the time you should be teaching is disrespectful. It is disrespectful tot the kids who are there to learn, to the person paying your wages, to the ELT community who are only ever associated with the lowest common denominator of teacher. It is also disrespectful to yourself. Take the time to plan properly and do it at an appropriate time and place.

For example, this is the wrong time and place to start the screenplay for The Godfather.

Tessio: Can you get me off the hook, Tom? For old times' sake?
Tom Hagen: [shakes his head] Can't do it, Sally. 

If you have rules in your classroom, enforce them. If your favourite kid breaks those rules, enforce your rules. No one gets a bye. I don't care if a retest has them  start to cry. I mean, I care, I'm not a monster. However, I care more about the justice that is perceived by everyone else in the classroom. You slack off on how you enforce rules, pretty soon the whole classroom will feel justified (correctly) to slack off as well.

Though you should make sure your rule enforcement tactics are age appropriate. This is good for Middle schoolers, maybe?

Emilio Barzini: [during a meeting with the Five Families] Times have changed. It's not like the Old Days, when we can do anything we want.  

The Old Days. Long Time Ex Pats gathered around a bar table will reminisce about how great the Old Days were. Don't blame us, we're old with bad back and creaky knees. Time was, being an ELT teacher was rare. Being a foreigner in a Korean city was rare. Job retention was high and job security was good. Everyone loved a hagwan teacher. Now, academies close all the time, the job market is shrinking even as the teacher influx has swelled. You are no longer a hot commodity. Owners and managers look at your work ethic, your work output and your skill set and compare it to literally thousands of others.

"Even you, Al Pacino can be replaced," lied De Palma as Brando wondered where he left his keys.

Michael: My father is no different than any powerful man, any man with power, like a president or senator.
Kay Adams: Do you know how naive you sound, Michael? Presidents and senators don't have men killed.
Michael: Oh. Who's being naive, Kay?

There is a high likelihood your boss is an arsehole. He does not care about your well being, whether it is making you work if you have a sore throat and runny nose, or if it a refusal to turn on the air con despite your sweat is clearly making a mini ocean around your desk. Suck it up. If you are doing this job in this country, chances are no matter where you go, you will have the same trials and tribulations. This comes with a warning. Some managers are not arseholes. They are nefarious criminals who should be challenged in a court of law. Know your rights and compare with other teachers, both in your hagwan and in your community.  Most criminal bosses work on the fact you don't know any better and the fear of isolation in a foreign country. Stand up to them. It is not as if they are the mafia.

Kiss my ring, you son of a bitch.

Pacific Rim's Guide To ELT

Continuing the theme of using movies to help improve English Language, I give you ...Pacific Rim.

Asia is the place for ridiculously big monsters and giant robots. FACT. That a movie about such things could lend itself to English learning is of course, utterly sensible. The Kaiju/Jaeger dynamic is is almost identical to the student/teacher dynamic. Confrontation of ever learning, ever growing alien beings, who never stop coming at you? I call that Kindergarten.  Use of Plasma cannons and Giant swords? Teaching tols if ever I heard of them? Grabbing a battleship and using it as an impromptu baseball bat? Flexible use of the teaching environment.

Read on and learn why your teaching will cancel the apocalypse....

Raleigh Becket: Wait. I think this guy's dead. But let's check for a pulse.
Mako Mori: Okay.
[They turn the Jaeger around and fire the Jaeger's plasma cannon into the kaiju four more times,exploding its chest]
Raleigh Becket: No pulse. 

Sometimes, in a lesson, we are in a rush and just push on with the lesson plan. Let's always remember to make sure there is comprehension. Do the kids understand the principles you just explained? Do they actually get the new vocabulary? Don't just ask, "Do you understand?" Elicit responses that show they know how to use the new information. Otherwise, you're not teaching them, you're shooting them with a plasma cannon. Don't do that!

This is a Bad Teacher moment. a Bad Ass Teacher moment, amirite? Seriously, don't hit kids.

Raleigh Becket:  To fight monsters, we created monsters of our own.

Some kids are nasty animals who need to be put down, garrotted and strung  up as a warning to others. Nope, that was a trick I pulled on you just then!Don't feel sheepish, I'm sneaky like that. But, in a classroom, sometimes a persona develops as the teacher tries to instil a level of management. This character can sometimes not be so pleasant. Remember, any character can change from bad to good and vice versa. If you don't like the monster you created for yourself, let it go and start afresh. You may be surprised at how the students respond and soon there may be no monsters at all.

"So, uh, no monsters, eh? Fancy a coffee?"
"...."

Stacker Pentecost: One: don't you ever touch me again. Two: don't you ever touch me again. 

We come from a society where students touching and teacher touching is taboo. In Korea, kids will want to touch you, especially if you have awesome facial hair. Before you flare up at your kids about the no go zone, here's a little note from my youth worker days. Are you yelling at your kids because they are doing something bad, or because they are doing something annoying? Kid want to touch beards. Let it happen, don't let it happen, but don't make your kids feel bad for being curious for once in their life.

Is it wrong I want them both to have the same beard?

Stacker Pentecost: I do not need your sympathy or your admiration. All I need is your compliance and your fighting skills. And if I can't get that, then you can go back to the wall that I found you crawling on. Do I make myself clear? 

You're a teacher. So, do your job. Your job is flexible, far more than anything else you have probably done.  It's something that teachers often try to translate to their students. If I am teaching, then you better study. I don't want any of your crap.The only problem with hthis is, their crap is part of your responsibility. Wnting to put slow learning children down a level is all wel and good, but until that moment, you probably should take the time to try and teach them something. Some kids don't need to go back to their crawling wall.

Populated Exclusively by Kids who don't put their hands up.

Hannibal Chau: Are you funnin' me, son? 

Yes, yes I am. Pacific Rim is a movie about a war to survive. There is absolutely no parallel between that situation and the classroom. If you think something is a battle zone, you bend your body and soul into it and grit your teeth. If you act like you're in a war, soon the kids will as well. Shift your perspective. Adjust your expectation level. Think of other teaching styles which may be more positive and may lead to a more positive result.

They may even take you out of this world. Where you can then slice it with a sword that up until that point you had not used at all. Even though it could have saved your brother and countless other people. But no, you're right, using it now when you are a gazillion miles from the ground, that's the move. 

 

 

Seriously. This movie is Awesome Sauce Stupid.

Email Transcripts Between A Robot and its New Hagwan Boss

Do's and Don't Of Summertime

When contemplating the summertime, people in Korea relish the opportunity to, you know, really do something with their weekends. And when it comes to weekend activities Korea is Instagrammingly awesome.  As ever, with these moments there is a right way and a wrong way.  And, as ever, I have lists these impeccably.  Honestly, at this stage of the game I am nailing it harder than a hammer. A Hebrew Hammer, if you will.

Ha, remember when I did sports? No, me neither.

Going to a Sports Event

Do -  at this stage all the ex pat leagues have shut down, are shutting down or should be shut down.  Not permanently guys, just until next season. Luckily Daegu's bevy of sports franchises mean you can go to a game and watch professionals play the game you play, albeit with maybe a little less style or alcohol.

Unless this guy comes back from the dead.

Me and my friends.

An action shot of said sporting event.

Book your seats in advance, budget time and money, and you are almost guaranteed great memories that will be best expressed by facebooking endless photos of you and your friends' faces in some kind of stadium over and over and over again. Make sure to include one fuzzy image of said sportsman doing nothing in particular.  Now all your friends will be jealous.  

Don't- As  far as you are concerned, these overpaid hacks are embarrassing the noble game of baskbaseultisoftballs you have been championing for the last however many Sundays it took for you to lose in the first round playoffs to that bullshit team made up of probable semi pros who grew up together inventing the game.

Cue a joke about Chris Keeler and Paul Groba getting angry.

 As your combination of rage, depression, loss and sense of victimization swirl together in a cocktail of sweaty shitty beer and sweatier, shittier soju, remember this.  You are a paying fan, and paying fans are expected, nay obligated to tell players how, why and when they suck. Combine this with good acoustics, lack of English being spoken and small crowd turnout, you can really get inside that foreign player's head. Take the time to google everything about him and remind him of his failures as a husband/lover/student/mariachi, as well as reminding him his career has almost certainly not ended up the way he hoped.   The tears, they will taste so good.

So, so good.

Hiking - 

Do- check the weather on this one. Dress appropriately. Bear in mind snakes happen after rain.  I assume because the raindrops allow them to go freestyling down the slopes.  I don't know.  I hate snakes.

Look at that evil bastard.

Anyway, go early, so you really enjoy those views of tiny cities, or farmland.  Take photos, to prove you are totally into this thing.  Health, or whatever.  I don't know. Health, snakes, same same. Make sure you see that giant Buddha/stone/monastery.  Yep, holy introverts went out of their way to plant that shit right out if the way.  So you better find them and take pics. Holy pics.

"Seriously, is this guy just going film us praying? Because I need to fart and the bubbles are bad enough...."

 Oh, and take food and drink.  Do not be the guy in the group who 'forgets' and makes everyone give one bite of their food.  It is awkward for everyone.  I apologize again to the Apsan Tour of 2011. 

Don't -  This hiking seems to be like walking. Walking upwards through trees.  It doesn't seem that hard.  Step things up a notch.  Get to the mountain a day earlier than everyone else. As we all know, hiking is strictly set between certain hours probably.  Rig the mountain with just the right amount of landmines. Pay one class of middle school children to don war paint and teach them how to use bows and arrows.

Obviously not this bitch. She just hides. Like a bitch.

Release a crazy dude with a chainsaw and a motion tracker.  Any of these are good. However, whatever you do, wait until your friends are halfway up before you tell them your game changing plan. At the end of the day, as you shiver in a combination of fear and exposure, hiding next to the last monk standing in the shell of a burned out monastery, remember this.  It's not hiking if no-one dies.  I learned that from Predator. 

Should have stayed in Office, Dude-anator.

Going to Seoul 

Do - Don't.  

Don't - Do. 

You're welcome.

Enjoying Some Culture

Do - oh my days, Korea is full of culture.  And I'm not talking that Frasier Crane, sniff but don't swallow malarkey either.im talking soju wine tasting, bull fighting, herbs and medicine, mask making hootenannies.  I'm just saying rednecks and Koreans are probably related. And doing each other
 

Pictured, Evidence.

.  Enjoy doing the cheesy, rural bumpkin stuff. What are you, too good for a hay cart ride? You're probably from London, aren't you?  Or New York.  Or somewhere else where your heart has died. Well, compare fifteen different ginseng infusions and tell me your soul did not just leap up for joy.  

Every single person in this pic is living the dream, people.

Don't - approach Korean culture the same way you approach a crazy old lady. Open arms, smiling, yet be cautiously aware she could have a brick in her handbag. In fact, approach like you ARE a crazy old lady.  

Nailed it. And by it, I mean two out of three of these got some Hebrew Hammering. The chick said no.

These ladies seem to get deals and discounts and front of the line privileges.  I say dress up like one and enjoy your day out, first class Gangnam style. A moment for my writing as I reference such clichéd tedium. Allow your inner ajumma out.  Elbow anyone you like, especially, and this is the best part, other ajummas.

AJUMMA FIGHT! My money is on the garishly dressed one.

Get first dibs on the fairground rides. Refuse to pay for anything shouting "He stole my money!" and point at literally anyone. Finally, insist on getting someone else to give up their seat.  In the bathroom.  

ENJOY YOUR SUMMER!

Phone Noir

Phone Noir.

The day began as ever, with hazy recollection of the night before.There had been Soju.  I knew that.  There had been shouting and finger pointing.  There was always those things with Soju.  

There had been boasting.  Manly boasting.  Big man boasting.  Anthony talking about his big brown beauty.  Nick talking about his woman and how they liked playing with her magic hole.  Jeremy and how his could light up his whole life. And I was jealous, gorram it.  Jealous like a fox.  And I said the stupidest thing ever.

"Fine.  I'll get a phone as well."

I swore I would never get a phone again, not after last time. I swore I would never go back.  I made a promise to myself, to my lady... Damn. 
 She might leave me if I got back into that world.  I walked away from all of that.  And now I was going to go back into the Lion's Den.  

I scribbled a note. "Gone shopping. Back soon."  The sin of omission weighed heavy like an Eskimo woman's nipple in the dead of winter. I pulled out my bag and felt the cold steel inside. History repeating.  I strapped the holster and checked my magazines were still oiled. 

I hate shopping for phones. 

I walked to SK towers.  I hoped I could avoid seeing him. There was enough blood poured on the pavement every day.  I did not want to add to it, one way or the other. The towers had three phone shops.  Get in, get the phone get out. Avoid the smartphones.  Avoid the contracts. Avoid getting contracted.  Avoid him. But the world has spun. The corner qook store, deserted.  The subway KTF, nothing more than whitewashed windows. The roadside LG, nothing but a pair of massage chairs left in the place. Someone had squealed. Someone ratted me out.



He knew I was coming.  He knew I was coming for a phone. 

I tried. I went to Beomeo.  I wanted to not go to that place again. I would do anything to avoid that place. I could not risk letting my inner beast unleash. I went to Dunkin and got my Cuppa Joe and a cream cheese beigel.  The girl seemed so innocent. 

"Do you know where I could buy a phone around here?"

"Oh no, sorry.  No phone stores here, David."

She knew my name.  Dammit! I felt a cold sweat, I wanted to pull the piece there and then and let hellfire take us all.  Get a grip. That's what he wants you to do.  I smiled and walked away. I looked next door where the Olleh Superstore put paid to her lies, put the punch line to his joke. 

Well, shit, two can play this game. 

I walked into the superstore and walked up to the prepay counter. The two salesmen looked at me uneasily. I looked at them hard and long like something pornographic. I sauntered over to one of the plastic desks and sat down.  I slowly ate my beigel letting crumbs fall on their floor. They looked at the floor, the ceiling, one of them even started to gorram dust the counter.  I chewed my last mouthful then stood up suddenly. They dove behind the counter. Pussies. Then again, this was never in their pay grade. They thought it would all be shiny suits and grabbing girls off the street. They didn't think I would ever be back. I thought about making an example of them. Then I remembered my mission. I wouldn't have enough bullets as it was. 

I walked to the door , my silhouette fill the room.

"Tell him I'm coming." 

______________________________________________

The subway ride was exactly as expected.  The carriage cleared as I sat down, two ajoshis staring at me from the exits. 


I stared dead ahead. History repeating.  Get the phone.  Get out. No contracts.  No 4G. No more blood than absolutely necessary. Banwoldang music playing like a bagpipe of retribution. I got up and tipped my hat to the old men. They shook their heads in amazement. 

"You crazy bastard, I hope you live," their blank gazes seemed to say.  Up into the sub mart.  Twin Ollehs marked their territory here. I knew it was futile.  I knew it was only sucking time from a vacuum.  I knew I wouldn't just do what he wanted. I walked into one and could feel the eyes from the salesmen from the other store throwing daggers. I knew I couldn't be long. My stoic outward appearance belied the manic laughter in my soul.  The monster was coming out of its cage. I approached the counter. 

"Hi, my son needs a phone.  We're looking for one of them iPhone Sixes with the Darth Vader hyperzoom big screens, bi enough to take a picture of the moon at scale. It's gotta have retina control, remote control, raisin control. You hear me, I want it to control raisins!"

"Um, no English ."

"Sure, I hear ya, I hear ya.  How about one of them satellite phones? I'm talking Vietnam, drop the rain!"

The unmistakable sound of lacquered leather shoes running made me smile at the poor boy. His friends were coming to save him. Only thing, who was going to save them?

I grabbed the boy and dragged him over the counter. I dragged him out to the fountain forecourt and threw him towards his five compadres. They skidded to a stop on the tiled floor. One fell in the fountain. 

"Boys, we can do the easy way or the -" I began. 

They screamed and ran at me. I smiled. Okay then. The really easy way.  

The blood washed well enough away.  The ajummas' screams would take longer. Focus.  Just get the phone. I walked past the police station. They were closed.  Figured. They would not want to get involved in this.  Not on this day.  Not after last time. 

Phone street. Son of a bitch. My own hell cycle.  Shop after shop after shop all run by the man, an army of ill fitting shiny suits and polo shirts.  A cacophony of K-Pop.  They all walked out of their shops and they carried enough to drop King king. All this for little old me. And then he came through them.  

Damn The Man.  He smoked his skinny cigarette like a Korean movie gangster, that is to say, like a geek sucks on a strawberry milkshake. He smiled his oh so cool little smile.  "He thinks he won," I thought.  "He might be right," a thought betrayed. "You're old. You might be too old to do all this again." "Shut up, brain. I have no time for you."

"David, it is good to see old customers again." Strawberry milkshake sucking.  "I thought we agreed it would be better if you didn't come here again. You chose your phone.  How is she?"

I smiled, masking my grimace. Hiding my torment. Stuck in WiFi purgatory, a mask of perfection hiding the grim inoperative reality.  

"I want a phone.  No reason to lose anymore of your boys". 

"We have many fine Korean smartphones.  Pick one. We have great two year contracts. Do you have your alien registry card?"  The Man started to laugh.  His men started to laugh.  Dammit.  The beast was already out. Oh well. 

"I don't want your skinny breakable pieces of shit that last two hours fully charged.  I want a brick. I want a solid piece of European fashion.  I want twelve hours at ten per cent. I want to play Snake and feel the luxury.  I want a gorram Nokia 3210."

The guns slid into my palms and the weight felt so good. 

"And no contracts!"

________________________________________________

....I don't know how much time passed. Hours, minutes, seconds, microns.  All I knew as I limped away blood coagulating around my calf, the smoke tearing my eyes, the screams pinging through my ruptured ear drums, all I knew was this.  

You couldn't change the situation.  This is phone town, Jack.  

But I got my phone. 

Five DIY Tips Living In Korea; Dos And Don'ts.

Well, look. Most of you have your own place sorted out by your employer. I mean, hell, that is part of the pleasure of working here. However, you could decide to move on to a better place. And I don't mean Heaven. When you find a place, there could be a few small problems with it. When you get those problems, there are right ways and there are wrong ways to fix them. I hope these will clarify which is which. 

This set of signs have no arrows. There is no way shown. They are doing signs the wrong way. Therefore, the wrong way sign is doing it right and the right way sign...Look, it's a bad picture.

Gaps in Windows 

DO

I know you are all ready with the weather stripping. Self adhesive, easy to use, readily available. However, if you find yourself not able to get it this might be good too. Get some double sided sticky tape. If you're British giggle at the fact you have become a Blur Peter presenter. If not English, shake head at the things English insist are funny. Get shrink film. I don't care where from. I don't know, fucking Daiso.

Somewhere in here, Hoffa is buried. Probably in one of the Heart shaped letter keepers.

Wash window and frame. Stick sticky tape to frame. Put shrink tautly over tape. Make joke about stretching it out. Use hair dryer to heat the shrink film. Shrink film shrinks, thus making people who name things happy. Now you have no draft. I'd make an NFL reference but honestly I don't know anything about that. Is the Refrigerator still a super star athlete?

What a Super Star Athlete should look like. David Beckham, take note.

DON'T
Take a tube of superglue and hammer it into a plank. Put plank over hole. If this doesn't work pour oil on it and set fire to it. Enjoy the virtual feast. Then try to do again but better. When window falls out get oil drum and place in centre of room. Fill with detritus and waste. Set fire to it. Hope this will compensate for -20 degree Siberian winds. Watch hope extinguish as flame dies. Or, watch hope set fire to entire apartment block.

Still, to be fair, I bet you can't feel that Russian wind anymore. I bet you can't feel anything.

Ripped mesh.

DO

Buy a new mesh guard. It's cheap. No? You are now officially cheaper than a Jew. Apparently you break all the boundaries, allowing insects in your room and Jews in your heart. (Obviously not in your golf course though. That's cray cray). Okay then try this. Get an old mesh guard. cut a piece out that is an inch wider than the hole (pause to say any dick joke. They're all good here). Sew it to the mesh. Make that stitch tighter than (don't attempt dick joke here. You're sowing. Read the room). When finished, have honey based sex knowing insects will go insane at how you are using their nectar.

"C'mon! that guy doesn't even have his stinger in the right place. Chicks dig the worst guys!"

DON'T

Realize it is time you face all the insects as a man but on your terms, with the clear home advantage. Cake yourself in clay. Arm yourself with knife, Doom spray, bow and flammable arrows. Rip the rest Of the mesh off the window. Turn on all the lights. Hide up in the coat rack. Prepare for war.

How Arnold kills everything is why there no animals in a 5 KM radius of his house.

Cut Linoleum

 DO

Get a pro. Look, you might think cutting a piece from somewhere else, beading some caulk and mastic will take care of it. It will not. It'll cost between 200-600 to do a whole floor. That's still less than your key money. Don't. No. Don't. Put the mastic down.

Although, this looks awesome.

DON'T.


Decide the cut looks artistic. Decide that is the next big thing. Decide that cut looks like the tooth of a JackOLantern. Cut the rest of the room to fit the tooth. Take a picture. Send to landlord. Wait for royalties. Keep cutting. Find the Ondol pipes.Climb down among them. It will be years before you return to the world of man. When you do you will be King of the Little People.

How I picture life under the ondol pipes.

Frozen Pipes

DO

This one Is easier the lower down the apartment block you are. Finally those cheap ass ground level apartments come through for the ex pat. Take off the floor filter so you have the open hole. Make a joke about your last girlfriend. Take off the the shower head an dangle the whole shower as far as it will go. Make further joke about your schlong. Turn on super hot water. Frozen pipes unfrozen. Pull shower nozzle back out. Clean shower. Have shower sex with girlfriend. Remember to put up Rocky pose when staring at yourself in the mirror.

Only, you know, romantically.

DON'T

Continue to shower ignoring the blockage. Let the dirt and soap congeal around your feet. Scrap off the resultant foot fungus and cook it for your landlord. This is your thank you meal  for your new ice rink. Brushing your teeth has never been so deadly!!! Don't tell girlfriend about ice rink. Learn how to live without physical gratification as you spoon feed her unforgiving paraplegic body. Live in regret.

This guy knows what I'm talking about.

Mold

DO

I swear almost everyone has a different way to deal with mold. Some like Cillit Bang. Some like diluted Bleach. Don't scrub. Just spray and pray like Cheney in a forest. Look at that guy. He's cleaning Mold from 200 yards away. And he's doing under budget.







Some like onions in tin foil. The onion absorbs all the mold spores, like that kid from super troopers. Then carefully wrap the foil around it and move it out. Or throw it at someone. Just keep it aired and keep an eye on it.Because that thing will pop and you will be fucked.






DON'T
Invest in black lights, a baseball bat and a flamethrower. Beat the mold patch furiously. Yell at it taunting it. Turn off normal lights and turn on black lights. At this point learn whether mold glows on a black light. Do not use Internet, it's more exciting this way. If it does glow, turn on flame thrower and incinerate beautiful floating glowing orbs. If it doesn't burn everything.

House Cleaning. Fuck it, it feels right.