You've waited 364 days, now show how 420 friendly you are and out chill them all!

It's 420 eve right now and I'm feeling particularly festive for the upcoming celebration to take place. For decades this one holiday has brought together respectable people from all walks of life. Long boarders, mushroom drawing artists, alternative nerds, collectors of wizard memorabilia, and if you live in boulder Colorado then your parents will be right along side of you taking that hit for freedom. I mean, you get high everyday anyway but this is 420 man, show the whole world that the weed smokers can have a holiday that's as/if not more second hand embarrassing then the drunks with saint Patrick's day. Now grab your pipes and hookahs and gas masks, put on something comfortable and read these five tips on making your 420 the first one to remember.

1. Dress accordingly: Theres gonna be allot of stoners out there tomorrow so your gonna need to really step up your game in the dressing department to really impress your fellow dankers. Hats need be festive, whether that be rasta colored dread bags or weed leaf print visors you need to let people know where you priorities are...and where the budz at. A safe call for shirts would be going political, a hope Obama tee, the classic Che or the Buck Fush stand by. I wouldn't recommend pants, but if you have no other choice then go extremely baggy and preferably with patch work on them. My obvious choice would be the cargo short with it's relaxed fit and abundance of pockets you ll be good to stash hella paraphernalia and really show everyone the variety in your pipe department, because hey we both know one measly pipe ain't enough, jah know what I'm sayin?

2. Get enough rest the night prior: You don't wanna end up oversleeping you're holiday away and every minute waisted is a minute you could have spent high, or talking about getting or being high. I've seen too many fellow pot enthusiasts fall victim to being sleepy from the night before and can't handle the immense amount of chilling that can take place on 420. If your still tired after you wake n bake then simply just do more drugs or mix drugs. Dude, it's four twan...you won't get hurt trust me, I'm a Dr...Dr. Feel good that is.

3. Try to remember: this is the day you've been training for all year now show off what you've learned. Gather all of your epic tales of smoking and what the outcome was. Remember, it's not about the quality of the story but the quantity of your stories. Mention how high you were, who else was baked and mention who was being a buzz kill. This is also a good time to get bonus points by sharing you theories on which cartoon characters you think smoke, teachers and bosses you suspect of being stoned and also blow smoke into your dog or cats face. Now you're pet has no choice but to be as irie as you.

4. Food: Probably one of the most crucial parts of the whole day, the munchies. Make sure you've borrowed enough money off you square pops to fully support your food fix today. Go big, order allot and mix foods. Try to head to holiday friendly restaurants like 'cheeba hut' to keep it local. I would recommend the footlong white widow, a special brownie with a large cotton mouth quencher as a starter. Also, make sure to mention how high you are or the cashier is just gonna think your some normal customer...get chill and let the giggles flow.

5. Do whatever you want: The most important tip I can give you is to disregard all common sense and well fare for anybody but yourself. Drive high, operate heavy machinery high, etc. Blast the bob marley out of your back pack with speakers while long boarding through traffic, pass out in fields, openly smoke out of your lizard pipe in public, flick off cops and other old people. It's a little known fact that it's actually illegal for a cop to arrest someone on 420 if they're having a good time. Watch weed themed movies, loiter on St. Marks, start a protest about 9/11 at union square.

However you spend your day tomorrow I hope you keep it green, go hydro, don't catch an edge and keep it chill.
One love,
FHQZ

Makeing it in NYC: The kings of the food court.

You know how the song goes, if you can make it here then you can make it anywhere. I have been living here for while now and I can honestly say that I have not made it here and chances are I may not make it anywhere. The same cannot be said for a couple of guys that I know who seem to have it all out here in the big apple. Rich and Canyon Duff have skyrocketed off the charts as of late and I want to take a closer look at what it might be like to live like these two celebs amongst friends that I used to know.

Let's start things off with where these two work...the 9th street espresso at the prestigious Chelsea market. I know what your thinking, what's the big deal? Don't they just pour coffee at the food court of the worlds most pretentious mall? You'd be dead wrong...the Chelsea market is full of C list celebrities, the mid wests wealthiest single mothers and even Europeans! All of the other boutiques in the mall gather around 9th street to get there java fix, from the nice people at the organic sock stand to the chefs at the lobster on a stick Boothe. And 9th street espresso's got prim real estate in the mall conveniently located across from the fountain and to the left of the bathroom. That's not all, for just a few dollars more per cup you can have a real life zany New Yorker pouring your coffee. It could be an artist, a part time lesbian or even someone with dyed hair...pretty wild stuff. Oh, and if your wondering about how the coffee is then hear it from the source: "Dis be da best coffee in the funking world"-Canyon Castator, coffee/espresso scientist, "The coffee is like...drinking wood"-Rich Duff, barista genius.

And it only gets more decadent after work lets out. Going to bars that have no name or require a password to get in, buying sweaters, talking about coffee, going to Serena's, painting yourself naked, hanging at work on your free time, eye rolling or just funking around town. The key to making it in this town is to keep things exclusive, you don't need to have all your friends around you to have a good time because you'll be making new friends in no time, and they're obscure ironic joke references are real side splitters...just make sure they don't rip the denim shirt.

Do you like what you hear? I know I do and I can't wait till I can land the job of a life time. It's hard to comprehend for most, and seems like a pipe dream to me but maybe I'm not cut out to be a NYC superstar. For now I'm just gonna keep reaching for the stars and maybe I'll be in a cool mall too, I'll just keep pedaling out snowboards for now.

Romance novels vs Urban Literature

For anyone who has ever grazed through one, then you know how ridiculous romance novels are. The cover is almost always a Fabio-esque character either on horse back or part horse, centaur if you will, sweeping some woman off her feet in a meadow or a shoe store and then 200 pages of soft core pornography. I used to think that these books were the most embarrassing things on the market, that is before I discovered Urban literature. Urban literature are romance novels for black people and filled with all kinds of wildly offensive stereotypes about both black and white culture. Here are a few book synopsis' I've come up with for both.

Romance novel: "Only at night"

Katherine is a stay at home mom. Her husband John is a successful adviser on wall st and is on the road most of the time. The one joy she found was through reading her favorite books, hopelessly romantic tales of women just like her getting swept away from their mundane lives and taken on an erotic adventure. She didn't think anything of the books, just harmless fun right? That is until she herself was taken into a world she'd only read about. Join Katherine as she's swept away from suburbia by a tall olive knight named Armando who's time traveled to capture Katherine for the purpose of making love on every battle field he and his army of hunks enter. But there seems to be trouble in paradise as she quickly finds out she is the apple of more than one knights eye and her knight in a shining loin cloth, Armando, turns out to be the jealous type. Who will win Katherine's heart, and what will happen when her husband John enters the mix...


Urban literature: "Good girlz do bad thangz"

Chantel and her husband had it all. She was the best prosecutor in the entire state of Florida. Her husband Tyrece, former NBA center and current brain surgeon couldn't be happier with the ways things were going. That is unitl the streets started calling and Chantel had to answer. Growing up things weren't always this easy, she clawed her way to the top and hustled along the way. Only now her past is about to come back in the form of Darnell, the 6'5 super model drug lord ex boyfriend who needs Chantel to accompany him as he embarks on his biggest drug deal yet...the white house. Thangz get tricky when feelings spark again with her old flame, only Tyrece aint going down like no sucker. Right before the white house deal goes down Darnell get's into a car accident and is brought to the ER only to have Tyrece left with the choice to save his life or smoke him.




I can't decide which one I would rather buy, both sound like books I can't wait to read on the train in front of other people.

Draft 1:The crying girl and the Blue man group tickets

I went through my posts recently and stumbled across stories that were never posted for one reason or another, some are really angry or hurtful ones that I knew I couldn't post and others were just not sounding right. Here's one of them, I remember I just couldn't write it as funny as it actually was.

The other day I was walking downtown and remembered a story that I had completely forgot about until I saw the sign with the Blue faces staring me down. This takes place a few months back so my memory is a little hazy, insert weed joke, or shall I say "purple hazy". Here is the tale of the blue men and the blue girl.

I had just about made my rounds of picking up hangers and sorting them into a giant trash can on wheels when I got to the last floor of the building and ran into Emily, a visual designer from London, whom I was obligated to say hello to every time I saw her because I said it one time months prior. I asked how she was doing, she never asked me because my response was not the one people want to hear when they ask that because mine was never good, and this time she was not doing so well either. She explained how it was her and her husbands anniversary coming up and she had got them two tickets to see the Blue man group live. This of course sounded like a nightmare and I tried to leave but she made it too awkward for me to walk away. She explained that they loved watching Arrested development and as a surprise to her husband she picked up the Blue man group tickets and planned to get extremely high and go to the show. Unfortunately, her husband was stranded in London or something and there was the dilemma. She started crying and I had to idea how to comfort her so I didn't. With tears streaming down fer face and snot running into her mouth she offered me the tickets and I took them.
I thought the whole thing was really funny and I thought that it was great that she pictured me as the main demographic that the blue men catered to. I wasn't and neither was my girlfriend, this became really obvious as me made our way to the theatre the night of the show and stood in line with a hundred German tourists shouting about "zet blue man goop". The tickets were in the front row and we got rain coats to put on. The show commenced and I slouched down in my chair the same way I did throughout school, praying that I wouldn't get picked on stage to chuck marsh mellows down this blue mans throat. They played pvc pipe drums that sprayed paint all over the place, did mime style stand up, had weird movie clips that explained they're from another planet...the girl at my work was right, I should have gotten high. I may have not gotten high but I ate like I was.

The show ended and I exited the theater feeling weird. The tickets were a hundred dollars each and I had an ok time. The girl came up to me for days after asking me how it was in detail and she was not impressed with my review and she got angry and cried. She was kind of always crying and then she moved back home shortly after. Now that I think back It was actually pretty fun.

Top 5 things that are pretty cool but have the worst following...

Sometimes life can be cruel. Every so often you can stumble onto something that is funny or entertaining or kewl but the people who are obsessed with it make it crusty or embarrassing. Here are five things that I've noticed that are ruined by the people who support or engage in it.

1. Mitch Hedberg: I can't deny that I do find Mitch Hedberg's stand up funny when I can get myself to listen to it. You know what's not funny? The chubby guy with bad posture sporting a visor beanie constantly quoting bits of his stand up out of context. I happen to work with a guy like this, and when he's not bragging about the blunt he rolled before work, he's repeating some joke that doesn't tie into any part of reality. "Hey ______, can you go meet the FedEx guy downstairs"? "You can't please everybody and last night they were all in my audience...Mitch Hedberg, man". What does that mean? The way I see it is the least Mitch Hedberg could have done before he died was take all of his die hard fans with him.

2. Sex: I used to love sex up until last night. After drunkenly coming home to watch Seinfeld my roommate came home with a girl and I was awoken to the sounds of my awkward friends orgasm moaning through the plaid sheet that we call a door. Horrified, I opted to sleep on the cum stained futon in the living room. I literally laid awake with the blanket over my head like you do when you're five and you think there's a monster in the house...or like you do when you're 25 and Peter Goldberg. I guess it's no more awkward then pretending that we don't hear each other JOing all the time... my life sucks.

3. Skateboarding: No other activity could attract so many degenerates on earth like skateboarding. Whether you're stopped on the train, street, bodega they will feel comfortable enough to approach you and "rap" about how they used to/currently "shortboard" and how it opened their eyes to alien abductions and eastern medicine. If it weren't for my love of both, and ying yangs, I don't know how I could put up with it.

4. Dollar slice: If you live in NYC and you've been to St. Marks then you know about the infamous dollar slice. "Two brothers pizza"to be more specific is an oasis to all jugalos, teen age punks on dates, train hoppers, scratch ticket enthusiasts and heroin addicts alike. It's also visited by people like me, thrifty assholes who will accept a lesser quality product for a cheaper price. How can I sit there and enjoy shoveling that wet diaper of a slice into my gullet when two 14 year olds with pantyhose arm stockings and dinner plates in their ears are finger fucking in the corner, chin beard Mcgee with the "voices in my head tell me what to do" t shirt is shotgunning his third mountain dew and the seven year old kid finally makes his round to me trying to bum a cigarette?

5. Weed: I have nothing against the idea of getting high at all, in fact sometimes it can be kind of fun. My problem is with the culture around it and the endless paraphernalia that follows it. Say what you will about harder street drugs but none of them are on t-shirts, belt buckles, flags, guitars, tire flaps next to the truck nuts and the sticker of Calvin pissing on George Bushes face and giving you the middle finger. More then 90% of the time I can tell that someone is really into getting high without the novelty "McCronalds" shirt on. I know the day when people can just get high discreetly is very unlikely so until then whoever has the rights to the picture of a pot leaf and has 4:20 trademarked is gonna continue to make millions to fund their chill lifestyle.

Zayn, Zayn, Zayn...

Zayn, you have some explaining to do...

I just logged into my facebook page and received this message, enjoy...

Looks like ol' Zayn got himself into another pickle...

El vortex retirement...

If you are an avid visitor of the slap magazine website, being your thirteen and your parental controls block out thrasher for the hubba ad's or your Neil Thurman, you have already heard the news that El Vortex has announced his retirement from skateboarding. If you don't skateboard, your not gonna understand a single thing in this post so you might as well just skim through this and pretend it was a mock review of Jack Black's "Nacho Libre". Though the decision made me sad, I have come up with a top 5 reasons for both El vortex to come out of retirement and to remain in retirement.

Top 5 reasons El Vortex should come out of retirement:

1. There is nothing better to do in Longmont.
2. Meta Sam is still trying to push 3 cases of El Vortex's spitfire wheels to people with enough common sense to avoid buying wheels that have been yellowed for years. D5 is rumored to have offered a deli zone sand which for a case and a shout out in the next video.
3. Troubled teens are still smoking cigarettes at the skate park, only now they do not have a over thirty Lucha making fun of them in poems in which they can't understand.
4. A high school girl at the skate park saw the El Vortex article on Slap and Neil is claiming to be his secret identity, even though no photos of the real El Vortex show him sporting matching quarter sized flaming suns and ying yang tattoos on his upper arms.
5. Though it's not the most serious notoriety, Colorado should really be known for something better then "home of the skate ninja".

Top 5 reasons that El Vortex should remain retired:

1. Coach is in better shape then him.
2. 70% of his following are now of legal age to purchase alcohol and no longer need to sit through a penny lane open mic night to get a hold of a few Sparks malt beverages.
3. Even Kris with a K voted against him in his last Slap one in a million entry.
4. With no reason to go filming, he can avoid the obligation of inviting creepy Jake along and the awkward free lunch.
5. We can finally find out who he is and end the mystery once and for all. I'm about 90% positive it's either Raul Pinto or Jarred Stoots.

Whatever his decision is in the end I have to say that it's been one of the most entertaining parts of skateboarding in the last ten years. In a sea of Baker Deathwish weed hype videos, which is the ICP of skateboarding, or another talented well behaved robot wonder kid, it was refreshing to see someone have the courage to hide behind a mask and tackle pros visiting town or fart into a camera. RIP El Vortex.

Robin Williams: Great actor, ok father...

I've taken a longer break from writing then usual as of late and have been working on a lot of exciting projects and one of those being the article you're about to read. I had the pleasure of spending some time with the actor, nay, the man known to the masses as sir Robin Williams. A talented actor, a devoted husband and father, I had often found myself restless at night wondering what the man has been up to lately. So, after pulling a few strings I got to sit down with Robin and his family to to ask a few questions and observe a week in the life of the Williams clan.

I arrived at the Williams compound greeted with a "BOO" as Robin jumped out at me behind a fern and started laughing. "Haha you scared me Robin, I'm Seth Powers I'm going to be interviewing you and the family for a little bit" i said nervously. A blank stare fell upon his face and he replied "you really have nothing to be afraid of Steve" as he lead me into through the front door into the living room. "As you can see I've done pretty well for myself" he said as he pointed to a piece of Flub hanging on the wall from his movie "flubber". I had to admit, it was pretty humbling standing next to an actual piece of goo from the movie. "Wow, is that real goo from your movie"? I asked. It's flubber not goo and flubber like all other forms of magic and happiness are make believe and are not real, a real actor would know that" he replied with a smirk. I was embarrassed and quickly changed the subject. "Hey is that your son, handsome young man" "blah blah boogaly woogly sweet baba lama" Robin replied. Robin jr. looked on angrily. "Some times you want to have a talk with your dad and not the genie from Aladdin" he yelled, then he flipped over his Jumanji game board and ran to his room.

I thought this would be a good time to spend some time with misses Robin Williams, but she was out sun bathing with the pool boy the whole week as he serenaded her shirtless with his saxophone. "Oh Robin, yeah he's a real Casanova...who wouldn't want to have sexual intercourse with the man child from Jack"? "And boy was that role a stretch" she said. I was starting to feel awkward at this point, I mean come on! Why don't these people respect this man like I do? He's funny, charming, witty and...suddenly it hit me that I don't really even like Robin Williams at all. I really liked Ray from everybody loves Raymond, how on earth did I mix these two up? I was pretty drunk I guess but geeze, I felt bad for Robert or Rob or whatever his name was and I wanted to find him to apologize so I went back to the house and Robin had locked himself in his room. "Rob come out, I'm sorry I confused you with Ray Romano from everybody loves Raymond" I said. "Rob come out, I'm sorry I con..." It's a yak back he yelled, surprised you didn't know that. He invited me in the room where we talked and laughed and he even farted in a can and tried to get me to smell it just like in "Jack", a tempting offer but I passed.

So anyway, I've been pretty busy lately.

Stories that have made the rounds, but never made it to writing...

In an average week for me I would say something unbelievable, horrible, funny, disturbing happens about 3 times. I have allot of stories that I've accumulated over the twenty three years I've lived on this earth but I also have the pleasure of being surrounded by people who have almost as bad luck as me and are usually out of their minds. This is a story that happened in 2006, there were six of us in a four bedroom house infested with mice and in a rough part of town. All kinds of stuff happened at this house, but this is the story I feel should be told first. The story involves two of my friends, one of which is Mike Katz, and the other is a gremlin that I love dearly, Yabo. So, here is the story of Mufasa the 365 Ib black man.

A typical night, meaning every night, was capped off with drinking loads of cheap beer in our living room and blaring music from Yabo's laptop. During these living room sessions a man wandered onto the porch and introduced himself as "Mufasa" and began explaining that he in fact used to live in our house. Words were exchanged and long story short Yabo did not feel comfortable letting this guy come into our house. We had heard the story and thought it was funny and weird but was quickly forgotten. In a house where Prostitutes are fighting your friends and then out of nowhere giving strangers blow jobs in your front yard, selling drug addicts fake crack and having them come back throwing bricks only to hit the one Innocent bystander in the chest, stoner girl friends fighting stoner girl friends, and two weapon crazy best friends in the addict making mid evil weapons and bombs...well, things don't seem weird when on Colfax ave.

A few weeks had gone by and Yabo had returned from school to an empty and dimly lit house with the door open. He turned the lights on and headed upstairs to hear the shower running and figured that someone got drunk and decided to shower, leaving the house open to all due to their own negligence. So Yabo went about business as usual in his room whether that was drawing demons, eating mac n cheese, or picking his nose while farting I couldn't tell you, but what I can tell you is that it all stopped when the bathroom door opened. I tall sillhouette of a figure stood there and as the steam cleared a freshly showered Mufasa walks out of the bathroom with yabos towel around his naked body. Shocked, Yabo asks "dude, what the fuck are you doing"? Mufasa explains he used to live in this house and it's ok cause he needed a shower. "You gotta get out of here man or I'm calling the cops" Yabo says, while Mufasa assures him that it's ok because "I got you guys a pizza, it's on the counter". Upon further inspection there was in fact a fairly fresh looking large pizza on the counter, which someone would later come to eat because it "looked buttery to them". Exactly how Yabo got him out of the house after that is a mystery to me but he did and that's what mattered.

Following the visit we all heard the story and couldn't get enough of it, we even stumbled across a closet where he stored some of his goods. But none of the stuff we ever found after he left compared to when Mike Katz came home from vacation, not knowing of Mufasa nor his antics, went to his room and came out holding up a pair of size 38 soiled phat farm jean shorts and asking "Uh, who's are these"?

Took a brief hiatus from writing but now I'm back...

It's been a pretty crazy month, I'm still living on Canyon's futon and providing the living room with a certain aroma only a true best friend can produce from his feet. I got a new job, I work for a chill snowboard company and half the clothing has stash pockets for...shhhhhh, ya know, buDZ. Things were really looking somewhat up until I got robbed three blocks from my house by a child with a knife. I've been pretty paranoid latley and my pride, or what's left of my pride, is bruised. Not to mention I have a whole new fear of black people in general, but mainly black children. After all this trama I've been through I figure the least I can do is give my advice and insight on what to do if ever in this situation from the eyes of a twenty something white guy who's super good with advice.


First things first, panic: As soon as I noticed this young man trailing me and following every move I made after picking up a good amount of money, I made sure to make every suspicion I had of this very vocal and aloud. "fuck, I can't believe this kid is following me and I have all this cash and various ipods" I said, then quickly realizing I made a mistake I followed it with a smooth "I wouldn't go messing with me though, espicially since I got diagnosed with being insanely crazy". This let's all young thugs know that yes you do have tons of money but you are also inanely crazy, which means you are capable of doing all types of crazy stuff including wandering around Malcom X ave really high with lots of cash on you.

Step two, run away: I wandered into the street where the young man quickly followed me, I knew at this point that something was wrong cause even though I was a little high I could clearly see him making gestures of slitting my throat towards me. "Yo, what time is it" he asked hopeing that I would pull out my phone, but I came right back with "I don't got the time, especially for this". I'm not sure what I meant by it exactly but when I said it I gave him a look like there was nothing in the world he could say to top that line, while he just looked at me with a "I'ma steal dat phone" stare. The light turned green and I started skating and I looked back and he was chasing me, I skated faster and he ran faster so the chase was one...sort of.

Get caught by thug tween: As fast as I thought I was skating, the kid caught up to me relitively quick. He was yelling "gimme dat phone, gimme dat phone" and the closer he got he began swinging at my head and head realated areas. I stopped short and grabed my board knowing that the joke was on him cause now I had a weapon ...but as soon as I picked the board up he kicked it away."Oh fucking...oh boy", my mind was blank as I stared the cock eyed angry young man face to face. He asked for the phone again and I said "uhhhh, no you....this is like my phone man". The second time he asked he pulled out a knife fromthe pocket of his khakis and put it towards me.

Give your phone to the kid: At this point we're in the middle of the road across from an elementary school where children are laughing and playing, older kids are playing dice and no gooding stop and watch as I'm being threatened at knife point. He has no interest in my wallet, my ipod nor anything but my phone so I pulled out my $40.00 cracked screen phone and he took off. I was left standing in the road sorounded by people who witnessed a grown man being robbed my a child. I skated away from Malcom X ave not knowing where to go or what to do.

I later got to the house, feeling a little high off of both being robbed and smoking before the robbery. I quickly wrote a description of the kid down on a piece of paper and it read "Black youth, 13-16 yrs old, light skinned, crooked eye, white shirt and khakis with short hair". I read over the description later and decided that the chances of finding just one young guy with khakis and a white shirt sporting a crooked eye in my neighborhood was insane, since on my block alone there's a 60/40 crooked eye ratio, so I threw the paper away. I lost my phone, I felt defeated, but somewhere in Bedstuy right now there is a young cock eyed boy looking through cell phone picks on said phone and stubbling on a rather large collection featuring my penis peeing in different spots around NYC and all my troubles float away.

Anyway, my advice is to not get robbed. It's the worst, I would much rather eat snacks or drink beer, maybe drink a few snacks like that drinkable yogurt they have now. Just promise me you won't get robbed by a crooked eyed ruffian in the projects.

"I'm gonna show up"

In what has become sort of trade mark of mine, I quit my job the other day with nothing lined up after it. No prospects, no leads, no friends to recommend me for another job...no friends at all really. When I put in my two weeks notice and walked out of the stock room I felt so empowered until I opened the door and walked out of the store, opened my wallet only to see 15 Colorado IDs I had collected from friends, an expired metro card and a coupon for a restaurant that I'm pretty sure went out of business more then 4 years ago and I realized...I am completely fucked. Later that week I began working through my last two weeks with a new perspective on work that I had never realized, the less you do the better you look.

I came in about thirty minutes late every day, and when I did finally get to work I procrastinated as long as possible. I made small talk with my supervisor, I drew allover the walls of the stock room and I hunted flies downstairs in my socks. In a forty hour work week I think I worked about 2 1/2 hours tops. Every person I worked with was not only impressed by my change of attitude, but insisted I revoke my two weeks notice and stay with the team. These people hated me three days ago, but when I got a "joose" malted beverage at Duane reed across the street and fell asleep under the jackets section of the stock room they all thought it was hilarious and couldn't imagine working without my new "antics". Even my manager took notice of me and asked if I would stay longer, not because I'm a hard worker but she said "you're pretty funny, the first month I didn't even think you knew how to speak English cause you didn't talk and I thought you were gonna shoot the store up".

People at my work got wind of me leaving and came up to me to ask about it. As time went by and my two weeks were winding down, I realized that these two weeks were the best I'd had here in the year I worked there. One of my bosses even asked me to stay a little longer cause she knew I had no back up job, and I accepted. My main boss walked in shortly after and asked when my last day was and asked if I liked cake, this may be a little confusing to some but at my work we have about 6 managers looking over us at all times because were all completely retarded, and I replied "it was gonna be tomorrow but now I'm not sure". Time went on and on what was supposed to be my last day, I called out.

The next day, I came into work thinking nothing of it. I did my usual routine of zoning out for a few hours and avoiding real work until I saw a manager looking at me like I was a ghost. Then I realized, everyone was looking at me like a ghost. People were looking at me and whispering "is that POWERS"? I was confused...until someone told me about the party they had for me the day before. The main boss of my department had bought me an ice cream fudgy the whale cake the day I didn't show up with personalized icing reading "goodbye and good luck Seth, we will all miss you"!!! Luckily, the boss wasn't there the whole day and I was stuck wondering if I still work here or am I just here and not welcome? I work tomorrow at 7am and I decided I'm just gonna show up and see what happens, I mean hopefully this guy doesn't take me quitting and not showing up to my own farewell party and then showing up to work after my last day seriously, right?

An old fashioned flashing...

First things first, I am truly sorry for the lack of stories lately. I've been sleeping on my twenty year old friends futon for the past month and the only time I have to use his laptop is when he goes to the orthodontist to get his braces tighten. Tonight at dinner, this twenty year old told me that his dad said that if said twenty year old ever had a son that I would be sleeping on his couch...jokes on him though cause I'm not even sleeping on a couch so...you know, man. Any who, here's a little insight on what's been going on with me lately.

A few weeks back, on the way to my 6am shift at the stock room I work at on Broadway, I was casually walking down Crosby st. reading the newspaper minding my own business. I say "casually" because I was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and I say "minding my own business" because most people I know are not willing to socialize with me. The streets are completely empty, it's just me and my am new york newspaper. Halfway in reading the "top 5 reasons why we suspect John Mayer may be quiting twitter" I see a jogger approaching me looking me dead in the eye. I thought it was strange at first because he was staring at me pretty hard and I thought "maybe he knows I rubbed deodorant allover this shirt cause I left it under my moldy towel", but then I realized why he was starring at me with that look. As we passed I made eye contact with this man, and as our eyes met he started veering his eyes downward as if he had something he wanted to show me. So, I moved the paper out of my way and low and behold I see a penis in the mans hand and he's shaking it at me. He gives me a little grin and shakes it harder, and stares at me with a little more aggression.

My mind went completely blank, and I just started laughing and I said "what are you doing"? "Are you serious right now"? The man gave a little chuckle and continued the penis shaking...he was really shaking this thing, but with aggression. I don't really know how to describe it but imagine that you were robbing someone with a banana, and for some reason to get your point across you shaked the shit out of it in the persons direction to let them know you were serious, except instead of a banana you were holding your penis. At this point I was just laughing, the man got angry, put his penis away and ran off. I continued to walk to work and kind of forgot about it.

Later that day, I tried to remember if I actually had a man shaking his penis at me or if I somehow dreamed the whole thing. I had to tell somebody about it, so I told this guy I worked with and he didn't really seem to find it as funny as I did. It's pretty crazy how "real" shit gets when a penis is involved, but everyone treated me like I was some kind of victim. "Are you ok"? "Did the penis touch you"? "Was he cumming or something, why was he shaking this darn thing"? After I talked about it, I realized that maybe this wasn't as funny as I thought it was to other people, I mean sure if the penis was wearing a top hat and a monocle and did a evil dance of sorts maybe, but nobody was getting the genius of the penis shake. Also, this man chose me out of everyone else in New York to shake his penis at, like he saw my face and said "Ohhhhh, you're gonna get some penis pal..."

Any who, a jogger walking around in a city filled with millions of people chose me to shake his penis at, so it's kind of ego booster...jealous much?

Recipes for today's spender...

I don't really consider myself much of anything but one thing I can say is that I can make some pretty Delicious meals in the toughest of times. Just because you're broke doesn't mean you can't enjoy the foods you've grown to know and love. I got the recipes to help you get fatter while keeping your wallet fat as well...nice. Here are a few recipes I've been cooking up in my kitchen lately that I know your gonna love. If you don't love these then you're probably a retard or a girl.

1. Seth's famous pb&j ish: I was too broke to get bread, peanut butter or jelly when I came up with this little number. First, make sure you have all of these ingredients before preparing this meal: 1 red otter pop, preferably frozen, 1 hand full of shelled peanuts and 2 parts saltine crackers. Shove the hand full of nuts into your mouth and take a shot of the otter pop. Mash it around your mouth for a bit and then throw in a saltine brand cracker. Concentrate on mixing all this stuff in the mouth so you really get all the flavors, when you can no longer bare it you can go ahead and swallow the medley. It takes a little bit for your stomach to tell your brain that it hates this, so eat it fast ok.

2. Beef steak with broth: This is a great gourmet meal at a thrift store price. You will need 1 pack of beef ramen. Bring water to a boil before putting ramen in. Once cooked, drain the water and mash up the noodles into a ball with your hands. Sprinkle the ball with the beef seasoning packet and then fry the mashed up noodle ball over the stove. The only complaint about this one is the overall taste and the texture of the whole thing is really unappetizing.

3. Bread sandwich: An excellent alternative to the "something" sandwich, all you need for this one is 3 slices of wonder break. Put two of the pieces in a toaster until golden brown. Now, put the third slice in between the two toasted slices and enjoy your bread sandwich. I like to pretend that it's meat and cheese in there, that'd be good.

4. Go to Snice: It's not really a recipe, more of a suggestion on where to go to get free food if your me. It's vegan and my ex girlfriend works there but other then that I have no complaints. I recommend the "whatever Serena gives me for free after hovering around the counter". That shit is usually pretty alright I guess.

5. The end: I couldn't come up with any more recipes, so I decided to end the post on number five instead of just thinking of another stupid recipe and then writing an ending mainly because I'm lazy and I feel sick from eating at Palace fried chicken with Franny...damn, Palace is pretty much the tits. I tried to get Franny to order the "Italian burger" but he wussed out. I'm not really sure what makes the burger Italian because the only difference between that one and the normal one is that its on a hero roll and it has french fries on it, but I'm Italian and I love this thing...so stereotypical.

Trick tip: lurking at the local skateshop

Over the past couple years I've seen a few tricks I've had go away, learned a few new ones and all the while maintained the same great attitude that everybody I know loves...or doesn't like at all. It's never a good feeling when you've been doing something for so long and you start to feel like you're regressing, getting old, feeling fat and your feet hurt. Lately, I've regressed back to my skate shop lurking past and I'm loving it. Over on N.11th and some street lies a little skate shop named "kcdc" and as it turns out I've started feeling pretty comfortable there. But there is an art to lurking and if you don't do it right you could totally be killing a chilled out buzz, and that shit is weak. So, here are a few tips on lurking, and if you keep at it, advanced lurking.

1. The entrance: Judging by the "hello" you get from one of the disgruntled employees you will know exactly how much lurking time you're in for that day. "Hey Seth, what's going on man"? That is a nice and friendly welcoming, you usually get these when you haven't been in the shop for like a solid week. "Seth, back again huh...what do you need"? This is the welcoming you will usually receive, and luckily for me I prefer that one because the angrier the employee gets, the more time I have to complain with somebody, even if their complaints are about me.

2. Browse the merchandise: I usually start off with the boards, this is a good one because you know they aren't gonna have the shape you want in stock because they never do, but you do get to make small talk like "man, still no ______'s in yet huh". Next make your way over to the shoes and ask about a couple models that they have but not in you're size. It's cool because last month you bought a pair of nike's there and they were pretty expensive so you got about a solid two months of shoe section lurking before your next actually purchase. The shoe guy has probably ran to the back to avoid you at this point so now slowly start looking at some clothes. I like to pick out a stupid shirt or some silly board shorts and go "imagine me in these, that'd be a riot right"?

3. Start trying flat ground tricks in the shop: This one is great because you literally just left somewhere you were actually skating to come to the skate shop where it's 119 degrees to skate a five foot cemented area really loudly. Some of the employees are bummed because they're hung over, but every time they look over with an annoyed look just say you were landing whatever trick earlier but now you "don't know what's wrong with you today, I can't believe this". At this point you've worked up a real sweat which leads into the next tip...

4. Making hints on getting free weird drinks: "Damn I'm thirsty, I really need a vita coco or a red bull or something"? Offer to make a run to the store so they at least think you're being slightly sincere but know they have stacks of energy juice back there for days, and guess what? Their luke warm and ready to make your stomach into a bubbling witches cauldron. I mean what else are you supposed to drink, water? Yeah, ok...

5. Take a load off: This is the peak of your lurking mission, similar to the highest high a junkie gets while shooting up. Make you're way over to the bench right after you chug a few piping hot red bulls and kick out however many idiot kids buying shit and lay down on the bench in the middle of the store, ahhhhhh. Your so comfortable at this point that I'm pretty sure it's against NYC laws to kick you out. If you feel so inclined go ahead and take those shoes off for a little bit and subject everybody to your foot odor. Oh yeah, that's what I'm screamin...

6. Make your exit: At this point, all the employees are in the back or out front smoking. You only noticed because you'd been talking while laying down for about twenty minutes and finally asked them for something and got no response. Take a look around you and make sure to leave all garbage and weird shit you were carrying with you at the shop so that if nothing else you have an excuse to come back later. Take a final browse around the store and say "Yeah I might come back and buy so and so tomorrow...". Now from here I would recommend going to the park and lurking over there until you find someone you slightly know from meeting once or twice and barging in on their conversation/picnic, but hey that's just what an advanced lurker would do.

I hope I answered a few questions for all you novice lurkers out there, and maybe for a few of you old pros. Now just sit back, relax, and wonder why they haven't asked you to work or skate for the shop yet. Some people just don't know talent from a hole in the ground I guess.

I'm always almost getting fired...

Every day I come into work I have been fearing that it's my last. My bosses are fed up with me, my co workers say I suck and the new kids are already cool guying me. I can't eat in the team lunch area because I'm scared that if I doze off on the couch that somebody will smother me with one of those pillows that smells like fried body odor. When using the bathroom, somebody will come in and see I'm occupying the stall and rather then letting it slide and waiting their turn they open the door and scream "Seth's taking a huge shit in here and it smells pretty bad", really embarrassing me in front of the four fat girls outside the bathroom. The other day I had a long meeting at work with my bosses and I hated it, but maybe there is something to what they're saying, just maybe...

I'm too negative: I have been hearing this for awhile now, not only from my bosses and coworkers but from my family and friends which leads me to believe...that it's not true. I mean I don't think I'm a positive guy but I don't think I'm that negative. Wouldn't it make more sense that everybody I know both professionally and personally are making this up because they're all against me? Exactly... and besides, even if it doesn't make more sense it's definitely the easier way to look at it then re evaluating my whole attitude in hopes of changing my poor perception of everyone and everything and continue being a cancer to my co workers. So chill ok, yeah I like know what I'm doing and shit...

too sarcastic: Yeaaaaahhhh okkkk, ok sure, I'm TOO sarcastic...pshhhhh pull your head out of you're ass already. There is no such thing as being "too sarcastic" and if we really want to get into the semantics about this then sarcasm doesn't even really exist, I'm not sure if that's an actually fact, but a dude out side a store on st. marks playing with devil sticks trying to bum a cigarette off me told me that so if you have a problem with his logic then you know where to find him to tell him he's full of spit. Growing up, my Sicilian mother would openly use sarcasm and other dangerous forms of speech including the word "crap" all the time...I can't believe she set me up for disaster like this, fuck.

I'm too selfless and giving: Well, not exactly in those words. Here's the story, my department in the store I work at won a contest. The prize, which is yet to be announced, is rumored to be about 3 thousand dollars to spend on whatever you want to do with you're department. So, they began taking tally of peoples ideas on what they want to do with the money whether that be going to six flags, having a boat party or drinking themselves to death...I put up as my vote that we donate the money to a charity that we could all agree on. In my meeting that I mentioned earlier, this was the one topic that they were angry about the most..."why would you put something so stupid as donate to charity for you're vote, we all worked hard on this and that's the shit you vote on"? That what my boss had to say, I don't think he's very interested in sharing our prize but in the break room there is still a box that reads "Haiti food drive" which has been there since, well the hurricane. I guess they're waiting to send that out along with the food drive from 9-11 and kill two birds with one stone.

Offensive cartoons: This one has gotten me into more trouble than my offensive mouth. I'm always getting caught for loving little doodles of my boss or co workers that they take as an attack. One time I had the head of security and the top person in HR come take me into a room and interrogate me. From the moment I walked in every manager was on a walkie talkie panicking that "I had entered the building". When I got upstairs I agreed to talk with them and asked why they didn't approach me to talk with me instead of having a sting out to get me and they said "we feared it would be too dangerous". After questioning me for awhile they finally presented me with their key piece of evidence... a piece of paper with doodles of a hamburger shooting mustard onto a hot dog, a rollerskating kitten, a cell phone holding a sword and "a manager's name written somewhere on the paper" they said. They were very concerned and so was I, because I had thrown that doodle out with my lunch and I got see that it had bbq sauce and lettuce stains on the paper. They explained that the cleaning lady saw it in the garbage and felt she needed to contact someone immediately, and to think I never ratted her out for stealing toilet paper....

Anywho, I guess the point of this post is... can someone hire me please? I need a new job

crews, gangs, and posses...

Over the the period of time that I've been skateboarding all of these years I have been both blessed and cursed in running into all kinds of people that enjoy this all American past time with. Some of these people remain my best of friends to this day, others have gone too soon and some are probably doing time. Skateboarding by yourself sucks, and skateboarding with friends is awesome, but when you're skateboarding with a group of people and you give yourself a name is when things get interesting. So, here is a post on the history of crews that I've been a part of, been witness too or just saw along the way.

The L town stoners-This is the first real skateboard gang that I had ever really heard of up until this point. I had just moved across town to a rather crusty area of Colorado and had just started meeting a few people who skated in the neighborhood. The fist kid I met was named "lil Jake" . He was good at skateboarding and he was like his nicknamed stated indeed very "lil". We would skate around town and eventually met the likes of Shawn Kline, a younger kid who already had a tattoo of a cross on his arm and was always looking for a place to sleep and Zayn Hood, who up until this point I just saw on the bus and thought to myself "where did he even find orange zip off pants, and why does he think skating in heelies is a good idea". Eventually the gang formed and we, more they, were the "L town stoners" named both after all of them living in Lafayette, Co and their love of smoking weed.

TLG, The lollypop guild-Sooner or later our friend lil Jake had met the likes of Clay Kessack, an asian kid from a different town that came to the local skatepark rocking the hurtingest of nikes and drove a car, which one upped all of us L towners. They began hanging out more and more and eventually started the crew of the lollypop guild. They made stickers, worked on a video that never came out and would skate Clay's basement skatepark allot. Whenever lil Jake would go there I would hear the day after about how awesome Clay's house was, and that there were "soooooo many snacks, soooo dope". As foolish as it seems, I was jealous of this whole thing. Eventually all of my other friends got to skate the basement too, and they all said that they hated Clay's stupid dog. The dog died recently and I now live with Clay so...yeah, I guess I didn't really need to be in a basement with him.

S.W.A.B, skate with a boner- One day when wandering around the cafeteria of Boulder high school I had run into another person holding a skateboard. He was bald and had a beard, I waved and he ignored me...I thought it was weird for a couple of reasons but I figured he was a teacher there. This turned out to be John Brownlee, a kid a couple grades BELOW me who, thanks to puberty, looked like a grown ass man. I would see him at the skatepark drinking beers, hanging with all the cooler kids and smoking cigs. I tried to make small talk with him when I saw him until one day he told me "don't take this personally, but I really don't like you". Needless to say I took it personally, so you can imagine how shocking it was when I got a call on my mom's house phone from him the next day. He said that they had voted me into the crew and on the upcoming Saturday we were going to have a "crew battle" with some other skateboarders. I was confused and excited and then spray painted "swab" on all of my stuff. We drove around in a van, drank beer and it's rumored that chicks used to be super down for the crew right up until I joined...

Trickfactory- This was the crew that I fell into by accident thanks to my habit of constant hating. I was on my usual hating spree at the skatepark when I heard some hating from a new voice, this voice was Bryan Ball. Bryan was thirty something, constantly farting and skating all the time and this was appealing to me. Eventually I was hanging out with all the older skateboarders and underage drinking with over the hill heros it was always packed with arguments of who left Bryans galoshes in the rain, how Brandon would "eat the fuck out of some play dough" or Neal crashing his car in the parking lot of his apartment complex in a sparks induced stupor then teaching children at the ymca the next day. These were really fun times now that I think about it...

1086- As things started changing, we started changing. Friends were moving from Boulder to denver and my friends were making new cooler friends. Eventually I too moved to Denver and lived in the mouse infested living room of the 1086 house. There were parties every night, girl fights, mice, lice, gang wars, hate crimes and so on. The crew still exists I think and I'm about 90% sure that it's still the password to any email, debit card, or facebook account amongst my friends to this day.

Hey that was funny...

Lately I've been thinking allot about what's funny and what's not funny, what 's acceptable and what's inappropriate to laugh at. Besides all that jazz, I've been remembering allot of stuff that was super funny but kind of disappeared...I've also been thinking about hot pockets allot lately cause our oven is broken and we have no microwave so I would have to cook them in this hot plate we set up cause our landlord won't come fix our oven, even though I've left like 5 messages and 2 notes for him. Oh, and I have to pack up everything in the house to get ready to be sprayed for bed bugs... oh darn.

Top 5 things that I think should be funny or have gone away too soon.

Mad about you: I've never actually seen this show but the idea of someone like myself watching this show on a regular basis is funny to me, separately these words mean nothing but once they're combined it becomes the gayest thing ever in the history of the world and if you like it you might be gay...or Peter Goldberg.

John Brownlee's myspace.com photo thread updates: These were really funny back when we were all on Myspace.com. Every time our friend John would come back from a trip or move away and then come back to visit he would post up a series of photos telling the story of the trip. I was a little jealous of the laughs he was getting and decided to give it a try but quickly realized that everyone I knew was aware that I didn't talk like the quotes from the pictures and was just copying john...maybe this is why he hated me for so long....

ex.1

Carved back in to CO, shit

was buttery

Said "what urps" to this fool, shoulda

kept it coors but shit was buttery

After we cheers'd more beers things were looking

hekka tripy, shit was buttery

...and so on and so fourth. John's were actually funny though, shit was buttery.

Death: You always see all kinds of videos of people falling and getting super hurt and these videos seem to be real gutbusters, but why don't they just take it a step further and make death funnier? Everyones all serious about it like it's some big deal, how come I can watch a fat kid fall off a moped and barley survive and think it's awesome but the second I watch a kid get bludgeoned to death I'm the bad guy all of a sudden? yeah right, sounds like horse spit to me...

Thug cabin Canyon: Remember how funny it was when Canyon was going through that weird rap faze where he talked like Paul Wall, wore tall T's and "didn't give a funk"? New Canyon is weird, he goes to art galleries, has serious conversations and when the mood strikes him wears adult clothes. Call me crazy but I would have never imagined that OG Canyon would be going to brunch....

Backwards hat, check, tall T, check, skipping

class, check, humming Ja rule song, check, OG

Canyon was taking paid time off for the "players"

holiday...

Here's "emo ass Dylan" Canyon, this was the

middle stage and death of OG Canyon...

Enter in new Canyon. Besides the

beer, sparks can, weed grinder,

yo yo's and garbage everywhere

this guy looks like he could think

he's important. Somewhere in that

Clark Kent body OG Canyon is still

gripping wood grains in the turning

lane.

Who is that dude?: Actually, it's whosethatdude.blogspot.com run by Denver's own Derek Milton. The birth of this blog was around the same time as my beloved Farthumorquarterlyzine, but were completely different. Derek's was geared more towards funny videos, stories, and the famous "things you never want to see associated with a loved one". With more and more blogs popping up each day I'd hate to see this old gem be thrown aside, but with it's lack of recent updates it may be sharing a plot in the blog grave yard next to claykessack.com.

A letter to the Shorty's company...

I recently saw that the company "Shorty's" has come back from the grave and started making skateboards again, or skateboard I should say because they only have one line available. Anyway, I contacted them to see if I could become the Rep for the NYC area and if they could help make that dream come true. Keeping my fingers crossed....

Dear Shorty's inc,

I'm writing this letter in regards to the new website and more importantly the revival of Shorty's skateboards. Eighth grade through tenth I rocked nothing but shortys gear and zip off pants, carried around the Shorty's first aide kit, skated nothing but Shorty's boards because that shit had pop, which I'm sure the board did but I didn't because I was pretty fat and the slogan for mine would be "that shit has bad nose slide marks". Somewhere along the way though, my beloved Shorts kind of disappeared and I started supporting antihero up until now. When I saw that you guys are going to carry 8.5 Shortys boards I nearly fainted because I can still maintain my barney bowl trollness with the flair of a Shorty's board, pretty buttery. So, I guess I'll stop beating around the bush here and get to the point of this letter...I think you should make me the rep for Shorty's in NYC and I have brainstormed reasons on why this is a good idea.

*My job is a total bummer: I work in a clothing store on Broadway in the stockroom, its in the basement where I sort hangers or move heavy stuff around all day. All the people I work with either make fun of me for being white or for dressing like a "garbage man", which I kind of have mixed feelings about because I think garbage men dress pretty steezy. Every time I try to chill their all on my case and stuff, like what's up with that man? Also, I don't like any of the people I work with.

*I'm pretty ok at skating: I'm not gonna toot my own horn here but I'm pretty good a few tricks, I have good frontside grinds, smithers, and tailslides in a couple variations and in rep standards I would probably be considered "good". Plus, my friends are actually good. I have this Asian friend that has really good frontside tuck knee grabs that he tail smashes in, my friend Canyon Castator... he's even on youtube or something, and well the rest of my friends are pretty funny if nothing else.

*I'm writing you a letter: I'm not claiming to have done something amazing or anything but come on, I am writing you an email. It's not much, but it's probably better then whatever crap your getting from some guy who used to do blow with the Muska and is owed a favor and is given this Rep job for only that reason, right?

Any who, thanks for taking the time to read this letter and possibly consider making a man's dreams come true. I'm not sure who's getting this, "helpdesk@shortysinc.com" sounds promising that it will get to the boss though. So if your willing to entrust me with thousands of dollars worth of merchandise to shell out as I see fit to radical dudes based sourly upon me writing you a letter to make me your NYC rep for your company then I look forward to hearing back from you.

Fondly,

Seth Powers

farthumorquarterlyzine.blogspot.com

Restaruant review: Big trouble in little china town...

Greetings and welcome to an exciting series of posts dedicated to the review of local cuisine and more! Our last review brought us to the scenic corner of Broadway and canal st where I tried an exotic plate of Halal food with a side of yellow slime glove pieces. This time however, I decided to take my taste buds a little deeper into china town and get the true new york experience. So, nestled in between knock off purse vender's and knock off scarf vender's lays this New York city staple.

Burger king, 273 Canal st.

As I entered the doors of Burger King on Canal st an overwhelming smell of human waste entered my nostrils. This was not the smell I was expecting from such a respected restaurant but the longer I breathed in this waste, the hungrier I became. As I pushed my way through the gaggle of a thousand German tourists waiting to use the one burger king bathroom that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy, I finally got to the counter. The menu was extensive, and I was impressed. Burgers, cheese burgers, two burgers, bacon two burger with cheese instead of buns, Oreo sour patch kids kit kat frozen pies...this was gonna be a hard choice. In the end though, I had to stick with the "value menu" options. For those of you who are not familiar with the "value menu" this will include items that are either too frowned upon by society to be on the big menu or items that just sound like a bad idea, "chicken nugget sandwich" or "BK mozzarella fingers". Either way your gonna end up with more mediocre food slightly less then if you just ordered a combo meal.
The woman at the counter looked at me, almost through me, and said something that was not in English nor any other language I've ever heard. She had black growths on her face, which is popular among the Asian elderly when they reach 1,000 years old and become part dragon. "Oh, I'll have two of the whopper jr sandwiches with no mayonnaise, and a value fries and drink" I said with excitement. "Bongdue" she replied, I was puzzled. "bongdue, bongdue" she asked again, so I decided to shrug which is the universal sign of "I have no idea what you're fucking saying" and she quickly solicited the help of a fellow employee who somehow spoke less English then herself. Now, I had two people saying "bongdue" at me so I just agreed to get my order "bongdue" and waited for my food.
They called my number and I took my tray to sit at the table where I can peacefully eat and be solicited to buy weed and fake watches throughout the entire meal. Two bites into my first sandwich and it became apparent that not only did it have mayo on it, but it had extra mayo and was a chicken sandwich. I now Know that "Bongdue" means to fuck up your entire order.
The chicken was not bad though, and it turns out they got my second sandwich correct. This tasted like a mixture of every gas station junk food on a bun covered in acid and after I finished it I was starting to feel like I was really high or about to die. After i finished the meal I knew I had to find the nearest restroom as fast as humanly possible. The German tourists were crowding Burger Kings bathroom so I ran to Starbucks where I could become violently ill in peace.
Besides getting sick, I give this restaurant 4 stars: one star for the food, one for the "bongdue" option on the menu, one for the weed you can buy while you eat, and one star for the fact that I went back to the same Burger King for dinner that night after dieing in the Starbucks bathroom.