No you steal icepop, silly white man!

One of the worst decisions I've made in a while was not putting on sunblock at the beach this weekend. It's not even that I'm burned that bad, but I failed to remember that part of job requires my back to serve as a punching bag for kids everyday. Maybe they are just being bitches today because they seem to be hitting me just a bit harder than usual. And while I usually pretend that it hurts when they do it, today it actually did, so I guess it's my fault.

Busan was a good time, though. Spent basically all of the time just sleeping on the beach. I sleep a lot. I had heard that the people in Busan were more friendly than the Koreans in Seoul, and I'll agree with that, although I still would have preferred to share the beach with an entire different race. One impressive thing was that the trains that run here are all so efficient, like down to the minute. Always leave on time, get you where you want as scheduled. Not really that big of a deal, but when youve taken the train in America dozens of time and every time it's 2 hours late, and it takes you 12 hours to get home for what was supposed to be a 5 hour trip, well then, the system here is pretty amazing.

Took it easy on Friday night since Bender forced me to wake up before 10am on Saturday, but during the short time I was out, I was still lucky to encounter some of that lovely Korean racism. We went into a convenience store, I bought two icepops, put them in my pocket and then waited for Bender to get his vaginal cream. As I'm standing there, just being white, a Korean guy starts yelling and pointing at my pocket. Eventually I realized he was trying to tell the cashiers that I hadn't paid for the icepops. So I took them out, waved them in front of the cashier, for a second terrified that this was some sort of conspiracy and the cashier would call the cops, but the cashier told the guy, that I, in fact, had no just stolen two strawberry icepops. We left the store, and as we got outside, just for a minute, I knew what it was like to be black in America. And it sucked. So to that drunk Korean guy who had a stuffed monkey wrapped around his fat neck, you win this weeks "Worst Person in the World" Award, which has now been given to a Korean for a record 75 straight weeks.

In my last class, a girl cried because I told her to stop hitting the girl next to her. At first, I thought she was faking it, so I was all pointing at her and telling the class "Oh, she's not really crying, I can see her laughing." I did this until it became quite evident that teasing her was just making her cry more, which it seems is what she was doing the entire time. The one good thing about making kids cry is that means they will be quiet the rest of the class, and this girl is really active, so it's about a wash on the guilt-benefit to my sanity scale.

Up top are a bunch of pics from Busan, a nasty stuffed animal threeway, along with a classic college video that will be amusing to, well, the other three people in it.