Not So Harsh Times: Volume One PICTURES

I am America's Number One Women's Handball Fan!


My sister Melinda and her boyfriend Travis at the "Bird's Nest"
Genetically-superior women who could steal my milk money in grade-school.
Spain Fans are fantastico!
My Napoleon-loving friend Luojia who joined us for Track at the "Bird's Nest"

This is Nadia, the fifth member of our Bird's Nest Track team on Saturday. She is a native of Beijing, and had a dream days before that she said was similar to the day that we had. Nadia shed tears of joy when they played a "Happy Birthday" song for a Chinese athlete who turned nineteen. I have to say even I found it a little sentimental.
This is Nadia and I on our pilgrimage forward to the Bird's Nest. We got dropped off over a mile away from the stadium and the march was reminiscent of the "Oregon Trail" computer game.
Once again, another genetically-superior female athlete doing things that I could not do with a ladder.
Let's get ready to rumble..........These guys are the size of jockeys but they are as mean as evil leprechauns.
A few of the fabulous Olympic mascots. They are so incredibly fantastic!
I am in trance mode as I watch more Handball. You gotta love the goofball with the thundersticks and crazy bandanna a few rows down. He was as smashed as a sailor who just hit port.
Words are not necessary to describe the Olympics. Only this picture!

Not So Harsh Times: Volume I

Ni hao:


I know, I know I promised more harsh times in the previous volume, but that statement was made before theOlympics had begun, and I just don't feel harsh anymore. Even the events that made me so maniacal are now kindof dulled down. I will say that the ticket company that I bought my Olympic tix from, has me on their Number#1 Most Hated Customer of All-Time List. It's like I am part of the America's Most Wanted, which is almost a compliment but not really. After a long day of work in miserable weather I took an hour-long taxi journey to the house of tickets, but there was one minor snafuu that was made. I forgot to bring a useless piece of paper confirming my identity, of course to the ticket folk this paper might as well be the Holy Grail. They thought I would just leave when they told me to come back another day, but I had the power of Uncle Sam on my shoulders and I was not going down without a fight. After arguing back and forth about how useless the useless paper was (I mean I had a passport, driver's license, my health insurance card, university card, etc., all matching my notorious Cheshire Cat smile) I threw a temper tantrum that even the cast and crew of the fabulous MTV Show " My Super Sweet Sixteen" would have found to be a little outlandish. After battling with a woman who easily could have lined up at defensive tackle for the Green Bay Packers for a good ten minutes, as on-lookers stared through the glass like they were watching a Kimbo Slice street fight, I finally KO'd the would be blocker with the power of slowing down there operation to the point that an old British woman was madder than I was. My opponent finally threw in the towel, and went and got my tickets into the Mecca of tickets that they possessed downstairs. However, she did bring Brian Boitano's long-lost twin with who was more well-dressed than a Penguin at the Academy Awards to chew me out. This guy was too well-groomed to be working at a ticket office, and he might as well have been Jeff Foxworthy's character in Office Space minus the mustache with double the flaire. Boitano hit me with a two-minuted nosebleed of a speech that made me want to fight back and triple-axle him right in the noggin, and to make matters worse he made me personally apologize to the defensive tackle as viewers gave me the "you dirty rat" look. It was just awful. I almost didn't do it, but I sucked up my pride and said I'm sorry to the bothersome blocker. Then I took my tickets, and was on my merry way like Johnny Appleseed.

So let's see, the Olympics just kick some serious a#$!!! I am very impressed with the job that China has done with the Olympics, and aside from the worst snack line ever (you don't want to know what a Chinese hot dog looks like), I have had no problem: getting to events; getting into events; and even sneaking into better seats (hypothetically) at these events. I purchased an elaborate cornucopia of excellent tickets that have made my life the Utopia that Karl Marx dreamed of, and I have seen: men's and women's handball, boxing, basketball (USA vs. Greece), track twice (the Bird's Nest is hands down the most unbelievable stadium that I have been in), and women's weightlifting (I would not want to meet some of these women in a dark alley). Additionally, my sister and her boyfriend were in town all of last week, so I had company at every single one of these matches. I am going to go through all of these sports one-by-one, and give you give you the Mr. Hollywood take on the respected sports.

Men's handball: Pretty cool. Much more action packed than I would have imagined, and watching China and Spain go head to head was a nice David vs. Goliath duel, but this time Goliath smashed David, like Sloth vs. The Fratellis in "Goonies". Great crowd support, and the Chinese fans are pretty amazing. They cheer the whole game. Like in the States where we say "USA! USa! Usa! usa!"etc., the Chinese have a motor that never runs out of gas. The best part is, they only have one cheer "Jia Yo Jung Guo!" Which essentially means let's go China. They just love this cheer. Can't get enough of it. Even when the Chinese team was down by ten goals, the cheer was non-stop.

Women's handball: The most underrated sport of all time. I seriously love this sport more than words can describe. I could write ten blogs without stop on why women's handball is so incredibly fantastic. Leggy euro vixens in tight outfits with menacing looks whizzing Nerf-Sized balls at breathtaking speeds in a battle royale that never stops. It's like if somebody took the Powerball event from "American Gladiators", and mixed it with an equal helping of Dodgeball, and then put the competitors in an indoor soccer arena. Needless to say, I have purchased tickets for the ladies quarterfinals and final. My favorite part of the whole event isn't even the game itself. At halftime they play eardrum-numbing pop music as a group of cheerleaders dressed as cowgirls, dance in unison with the five Olympic mascots who are dressed in outfits so fuzzy and childish that they could easily pass for Care-Bears. I cannot stop gawking, laughing, and well I guess that would be it.

Boxing: A huge letdown. The point-scoring system of boxing in the Olympics has little correlation with winning the bout and inflicting the most damage on the opponent. It is more of a ballroom dance, where competitors hit their combatant with a decent but not harmful shot, and then get out of the way. The crowds are great though, and the Eastern Bloc is a force to be reckoned with. I was at boxing a few days ago and Kazachistan went toe-to-toe with Russia twice. The Kazachs (I have no idea if they call themselves that) were ousted in the first fight, but in fight two their savior triumphed and took a little sting out of the punch that Sacha Baren Cohen hit them with in the movie "Borat". The joy on their faces was almost as memorable, as the width and texture of their mustaches. Go get em'Kazachistan !!!

Basketball: OK the USA Team is just fantastic. But Evander Hollyfield stole the show. During the third period the game announcer declared that, "former champion Evander Hollyfield is in the building." Within the time it takes to light a match, every single Chinese person in the building: took their cameras out with deftness of Billy The Kid; found their target like a marine sniper in heavy combat; and shot Evander square in the face with heavy-flashed pictures in perfect harmony. I have never felt bad for the former champ, I mean he is THE FORMER CHAMP. But for once, I was happy that I was not Evander. I was only sitting eight rows away, but I had to stand up to watch the game, as every person in his section blasted him with annoying camera flashes. I thought the novelty effect would wear off after a few minutes but the massacre went on for the entire third period. During the break one chipmunk-faced Chinese goofball wearing a visor that had one of the mascots on it, stormed through the velvet rope that protected the former champ and jumped into the seat right next to Evander. The Chinese Chipmunk then put his arm around Evander and peppered him with shots of the two of them together arm in arm (like junior-high girls do in those cheesey photo booths at the mall) until Evander's friend pulled the chipmunk off of the former champ. You might ask yourself, what was security doing at this time? Well, they were taking pictures of Evander as well. LOL It was so bad that Evander had to leave a few minutes into the fourth quarter. Down goes Hollyfield! Down goes Hollyfield!

Track: Ok, the "Bird's Nest" is breath-taking. I am no Brad Pitt, physically or mentally, and do not have the knowledge of where architecture is going in the 21st century. ButI can clearly state that the designer of the Bird's Nest, Ai Weiwei, is a flat-out genius. It is almost difficult to watch the events, because looking at the stadium is so hard not to do. I would like to say that women who compete in the Heptathlon could easily fill a Victoria's Secret lingerie catalog. I make fun of my former roomie Roland who hails from Switzerland as often as I can for fielding an Olympic squad that seems to be neutral, but Linda Zublin is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Unfortunately, like most Swiss athletes she finished closed to dead last, but she did it with beauty and grace. Also, Steeplechase is a horrible sport, I hate it. Oh, and I'm sure everyone already knows this, but Jamaica is what USA Track used to be back in the Carl Lewis era.

Women's Weightlifting: Now this was a sight to behold. It is was pretty entertaining, but only to see who comes in second. The winner, Lei Cao from China, didn't even start her first lift until the other competitors finished their last. The way the sport works, is you get three total lifts and can pick and choose whatever amount you want. You secure a lift you know you can do first, and then raise the stakes afterwards. There are two events, "The Snatch" & "The Clean and Grab", and the total from the max of both is summed up for your score. China has been kicking some serious tail at this event, and have been breaking world records and Olympic records all over the place, like a crippled Wino in an antique store. I have to say that it is fishier than a school of mackerel that the Chinese are not only beating BUT OBLITERATING all of the records in the sport. I'm just saying...

So all in all, this last week has been one of the greatest of my life. I anticipate the coming week to be even better. I hate to rub it in, but I was enduring sweltering humidity and weather so bad there were times I wondered if I would be happier in New Jersey, while most of you were chilling out in the sun with tan shoulders and flip-flops. So, drum-roll please.... I will be attending Women's Handball Quarters & Finals, Women's Soccer Final, Track on Friday night with a ton of dope events, Boxing Final, and even the Semifinals of Women's Field Hockey. I will be mackin' and stackin' my friends.

Reppin' Uncle Sam in the Orient,

The Hollywood Express

Harsh Times Volume I

Hell hath no fury like the loathsome individuals who work for the Olympics. There is no better representation of the old, "give them an inch and they take a mile" saying than this last week of Beijing. Some of the nimrods that wield their cowardly power sticks when the five rings unite makes me as sick as Rosie O' Donnell trying to run a marathon. Not to mention, all of the other "fake cops" in the city now have the wherewithal to bring down the hammer like Thor on any hapless soul (for some reason this hapless soul keeps haplessly being me). But before I get into the "harsh times" of Olympic tomfoolery that I have gotten myself into, let me backtrack a little bit and rewind this record back to last Sunday (a week ago).

So let's see, I went out for cocktails with my loco friend Victoria and her buddy Melody. Then we trounced off to a "Foodies Dinner" which was really cool, because I prefer these kinds of dinners and events to the blaring nightclub debauchery that Beijing oozes. Met lots of cool peeps and ate a boatload of Mediterranean food, which is one of my favorite cuisines. This social circle is a great one to be in, as the "Foodies" meet every month, and since I like food and am a supporter of starving orphans, it was a match made in heaven as I gave back to the community while stuffing my face full of falafel. Afterwards, a raffle for the organizer for next month was held, and my nickname (you have to use a nickname, mine was chosen by Victoria) "Mr. Hollywood" was not called. Guess "Save the Manatees Dinner" will have to wait a little bit longer, sorry my lovely sea cows you will have your day of reckoning soon enough. So all of the sudden, I have come to grips with the fact that I have managed to meet some really cool people in Beijing. A bunch of my club friends like Henry, Doug, and the boy genius Hansen were all at the dinner, and after breaking pita with the crew it became apparent that my colleagues and I had more in common that just a common disregard for Soulja Boy, fanny packs, and Chinese meterosexuals. After dinner we went out and danced at a club for our friend's b-day fiesta, and after some dancing and jokes it was a called night. Well, almost. Or not really I guess. The harsh times were just about to begin.

Some of my friends call me "Magellan", and it is not exactly for my navigational prowess, it would actually be for quite the opposite. I have this trusty little card with my address written in Chinese that gets me home every night, and somehow, someway this magical little piece of paper fluttered out of my pocket like that transcendent feather did in the opening scene of Forrest Gump. The next thing I knew my broken and gurgled Mandarin Chinese dialect landed me on a taxi cab destined straight to hell. Or I guess the Chinese equivalent, as hooligans with 40 oz. bottles (I had no idea they were sold here) and out-dated NBA jerseys littered the streets like a Master P concert in Palmdale. The taxi driver stopped, and he had unexpectedly made up his mind that this is where I was destined to go. This is when the sparks started to fly between the infamous Magellan and the cowardly taxi driver battle had now begun. The meter read 30 RMB, I offered ZERO. He then countered with 25, I bumped my offer to five. He then went up to twenty trying to make a deal for fear of getting completely stiffed. I had none of it and kept my bid/ask at five. At about this time a small Asian boy and a Nigerian wielding a roll-a-way suitcase strolled over as they were attracted by the commotion that was now starting to get pretty intense. The small boy said that I had to pay him something, and I asked ,"Why for taking me to Hell's Kitchen?" So eventually with the Kofi Annan of Beijing mediating we settled on a tab of ten cuai. I was hit with every curse word in the Chinese dictionary; hypothetically, I may have fired back. This would not be the last time I was to be cursed out by a taxi driver. In all total, this would be a drop in the bucket of cursings I would receive in celebration of the Olympic spirit.

At about this time, a bunch of heavy-set dudes with forties, jerseys, triumphant beer-guts, and menacing looks that may have been caused by smoking swisher sweets since they came out of the womb rumbled our way. The little Asian boy scurried off, and it was just the Nigerian and I left standing in the battle of "The OK Corral Part Two". The ringleader of the pack peppered us with some obnoxious jokes, and his posse of would-be hooligans laughed and taunted the Nigerian and I. I don't know what got in to me, maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe it was the thought of the meterosexual Chinese contingent dominating the club scene, but I went on a verbal assault that would have made George Carlin say, "whoa, that's a little too far." The five-star diss was when I slammed the leader for wearing a Cleveland Cavalier jersey, as I called the city "the mistake by the lake," and told him to get on a treadmill. For some reason the Two-Star bunch of thugs strolled off, not sure what the heck had just hit them, and the Nigerian and I had managed to thwart the assasins with the power of the smackdown. The Nigerian looked at me with a puzzled look that wasn't quite admiration, but it was close. At about this time more beer bottles were slammed from out of nowhere, and I thought things were about to get really bad...again. Then out of nowhere the little Asian came back into the mix with a map, and soon a cab came, and soon later I was home, sweet home. I tried to tip him, but he wanted no part of my money. Bullet dodged....yes! Good Samaritan saves Mr. Hollywood! Should be in the "Chinese Daily News" sometime soon.

The next few days of work were just run of the mill stuff. Research all day, eat lunch at the medieval cafeteria, go home, work out, watch a movie, repeat. This regular routine came to an abrupt halt on Wednesday as I managed to change my habits just a bit, as I grabbed a cup of coffee before I read the USA Today on the way to work (I normally just grab a granola bar). Like all taxis in the city, mine was crazier than a drunken elf, and he zigged and zagged the whole way down the freeway with no care for life or his limbs. Well, it turns out he zagged one too many times, since I managed to extinguish an entire coffee all over his back seat. I probably should have said something, but I didn't know how to say it in Mandarin, so it wasn't until the exit that he noticed how badly his trusted taxi had been served. The livid driver cursed me out even worse than the taxi a few days previous, I mean there was some serious fire and brimstone in his voice. It was not until I grabbed my cell phone to call my manager and tell him I was gonna be late, that the dangerous driver dropped his diatribe. He immediately stopped his yelling and looked scared for his life. Lightbulbs began to flash immediately in my cranium, as I immediately realized what was going on. Drivers of taxis across the city will face certain punishment for any tiff with their passengers, because of the enforced regulations of the Olympics. Since this encounter, I have had to raise the phone a few times for taxis who have tried to deny me passage (taxis don't always want to go to my end of town, because they lose a lot of time looking for a fare). I know it is a wuss move, but as they say, "when in Rome". HAHAHA! In yo' face taxi drivers!

Harsh Times Volume II will be written soon enough. As a preview to the infamy, it involves me being forced to apologize to a wretched brick-house of a woman by her Brian Boitano look-alike boss at the Olympic ticket pickup counter. Also, I have managed to secure seats to: handball (Woman's final), weightlifting, soccer (Woman's final), boxing (Mens final), and Track & Field. I also gave away tickets for the China Woman's Basketball & China Woman's Softball to some employees at my lodging, who were unable to get tickets. Let this good deed please save me from death by taxi for at least one more week.

harsh times my friends,

Mr. Hollywood

Status Quo

So I have calmed down a bit from my temper tantrum of the week previous. I have gotten most of the real painful work for my job out of the way, and am pretty well rested on this Sunday late-morning. I did get spit on, but it was an accidental spat that only hit the toe of my shoe, and I responded with the Chinese middle finger (it is the pinkie), and was able to walk it off without challenging my adversary to a duel.

I'm getting into the rhythm of the city these days. Where I live there is almost nothing to do, besides eating KFC, which of course is fantastic. I live in the financial district side of town, and there really is not anything Chinese about the place except for the maniacal taxi drivers and crooked cross-walks. So where I once took a taxi to and from work, I now take the taxi to work, but then walk through the college area of town called Wudaoko on the way back, and then ride the subway to home sweet home. The area in between is Wukaoko, or as most call it, "THE WU". And it is pretty sweet, makes me feel like I am alive again.

The WU is filled with everything good and bad that one can imagine. There are a plethora of street vendors hawking delicious and absolutely non-nutritious delicacies such as: chicken, lamb, or fish on a skewer, dumplings, sweet bread filled with all kinds of meat, and other tasty treats. All for an average price of two cuai, which is like thirty cents. Also, just in case anybody was wondering, the most popular type of store in China is everywhere in the WU. This would be the "cigarette shack", you cannot walk a block without seeing about five of them. They consist of a tiny space the size of a small storage shed packed with enough cigarettes to keep Keith Richards puffing for the next decade, and one salty owner/worker with a pound of dirt lodged between his/her fingernails, who has inhaled just one too many lung darts. There is a of load American pop music blasting from speakers in every which way, and to my despair Britney and the Backstreet Boys get more love than Wilt Chamberlain in his prime.

The streets are packed full of all kinds of people, I mean just about anybody and anything goes here. You have your alpha-males, you know what I am talking about, the Chinese meterosexuals are just mackin' and stackin' all over this place, carrying their Prada man-bags with the grace of a decadent lion on the hunt. There are fellow Caucasian expats from all over the bubble, seems that there are more from Europe than the States, but USA is well-represented. I see lots of Nigerians, who are also two years behind American culture, as they rock a lot of FUBU and old-school G-Unit stuff that you would rarely find in the States. And a ton of ABC's, and I am not talking about Another Bad Creation, but American Born Chinese, this is the group that I had previously been going out clubbing with, but this olde man just can't hang with that crazy crowd too much anymore. They just get too damn snackhoused (this would be a euphemism for drunk), and roll out to clubs where the music is so loud that your ears are ringing for the next two days, I mean they are cool peeps, I just can't and haven't hung out with them in a few weeks now because of the after-effects. These would be some of the types of people who hang out in the WU, but I am really just barely scratching the surface, anyone in their twenties with limited funds is well-represented in the WU. Also there are all kinds of cafes, bars, and other random stuff, the one that gets the most buzz is this speak-easy called Propaganda (no joke), which is supposed to be the spot on weekdays.

Anyways, the WU has put be back in a pretty good mood, and the Olympics are gonna be off the chains. It is hot out here too, has been over ninety degrees now for the last few days, and the weather report makes this seem like the way things will be for the foreseeable future. Mix in some humidity and smog, and you get the Beijing air pollution potion that is hell on earth for one's lungs. I would be very surprised if any Track & Field records are broken out here. They have limited the cars on the road, as one day is even for license plates, and the next day it is odd, as well as shutting down all of the factories in town. BUT STILL, give me a break! There has just been too much damage done to the environment out here to put a band-aid on it for a few weeks and expect the air to be as clean as Interlaken, Switzerland (greatest place on Earth). I really hope the Chinese government does not read this, because those pollution air index readings are bulls^&*! I keep hearing that the air quality has received a good reading for the day (via the "Chinese Daily News" which is a newspaper perfectly-suited for the stupid and gullible), and then I look out the window and see what appears to be a marine layer, and it is actually a thick stack of smog. My brethren, if you have ever complained about the smog in Los Angeles, please do not every voice your gripes to me. This is ten times worse! Bar none the worst pollution I have ever experienced. I hope that the plan for perfect air comes to fruition, and I have no doubt that China will do an excellent job with the Olympics, but I just don't buy the claims made about how clean the air is.

So back to the status quo. My regular day consists of work, the WU, I workout/play sports every day (I have few friends out here and seriously have nothing better to do, people ask me sometimes "why do you work out every day? Don't you have anything better to do?" And my reply is, "No, seriously I don'! LOL" A little Chinese tutelage, I hang out with a Chinese girl who is helping me, or I try to tutor myself, and then the cherry on top is a pirated DVD. I watched "The Dark Knight" on DVD, WOW! What a great movie. Also "Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo", I thought was the funniest movie I have seen in a loooooooooooooooooooooooooong time, and I watch a ton of movies. "Don't Mess With The Zohan", pretty damn good. But I also watch some awful movies, and if I ever see Cory Feldman I am gonna kick him square in the balls for making a sequel to "The Lost Boys". Cory Feldman, you just suck... That's all I am gonna say. You lived up to the deuchbagery that you displayed on "The Surreal Life" to a tee. Hang it up buddy, either that or morph yourself back into a ten year-old.

Well, I am gonna throw in the towel now. Take a walk around the city, look for some Chinese matching couples with my camera, and try not to get spit on. Hope you guys enjoy the pic I posted.

Five days until the Olympics,
Matt