Cat's Night Out

I woke up this morning and stumbled around the room to find my watch (because there's no clock in this hotel room). 4:30, way too early to get up. But why is it light out? Ohhh. Yep, slept until 4:30 in the afternoon -- to be fair I only slept for about 3 hours in a 44 hour period before that and drank about a million beers last night.

I started the night out with a din, trying to look in windows and find a good spot. Ended up paying about $20 for a shitty cheeseburger, fries, and a Viking beer. Beer here doesn't seem too great, just a lot of bland blonde ales.

After din, I wandered around a bit more, trying to find a place to sit and take the edge off. I had a beer at a couple different places, but there didn't seem to be too many people around. I finally found a place called the English Pub with a sizable crowd and a guy playing acoustic guitar (can't get away from hearing Don't Stop Believing). They had a big wheel you could spin for 1,500kr, and you could win between 0 and 8 beers (beers cost about 750-800kr). Talked to a crazy drunk Icelandic dude, and a dude from Norway. Catman's Law: Anywhere in the world you are, this phrase remains true: "Lot of dudes in here." Left that place for Dillon Rock Bar where there was a band setting up. I'm sitting there, thinking these guys are going to be some sort of Icelandic basement rock band. Nope, just these funky little instrumentals that sounded like the band presets on a 1980s Casio keyboard. Good time.

Those guys finished up, and I took off trying to follow the stream of cars all going in one direction. Popped into another place and set up camp at the bar. People in Reykjavik really don't go out until midnight, but places started to get pretty crowded pretty fast. At some point I started talking to a couple Icelandic dudes (yea more dudes). One of the dudes was named Greemer, I think. Greemer seemed like a pretty cool dude, I think he was a couple years younger. Anyway, left for another bar with Greemer, and we somehow started talking to a couple Icelandic girls, who Greemer said were the Icelandic equivalent of Jersey Shore trash. But one of them was hot, so naturally we followed them to yet another bar (Icelandic people like to bar hop). Sitting at a table, I notice this really hot girl who is in line keeps looking at me. So I'm thinking things are looking up. Cut to a few minutes later, she comes over, tells me she's looking for Icelandic men, and that I'm handsome but too short. Thanks. I KNOW THAT.

Ended the night with Greemer buying me a cheeseburger from this little stand. I got back to the hotel and shoved it into the mini bar fridge, but I don't even think this fridge is on. All in all, good little Saturday eve in Reykjavik. Also, the hot water here smells like rotten eggs.

- CM

WWHD?

That's what I'll be asking myself during the course of this trip: What Would Henry (m'fin' Rollins) do? Let me preface your first live blog from Reykjavik by saying I've been up for over 24 hours now and just had a latte at a cafe. I'M SO EXCITED I'M SO EXCITED I'M SO SCARED

Sitting in my aisle seat next to a kindly older woman, things were looking up for your beloved cat. Of course a few minutes prior to boarding, a woman shows up with her 1 1/2 year old to round out the row. Thankfully, I got saved by the nice IcelandAir crew who moved me to a window seat further back, presumably because they could sense my fear of that baby. At some point into the flight, I noticed a small red blurry spot out the window. As we flew north, it ended up being the moon, which grew to about a half moon during the flight... pretty awesome if you like that sort of thing. Towards the last hour or two, the sun started coming up over the horizon. Pretty great dawn view of the mountains in the distance, and the cloud cover looked like ice. Very nice scene until we hit 2,500 ft. and zero visibility. Yep, cold and misting, which is weird weather for a cat to be in.

Got to the hotel around 8 but couldn't check in yet. So I ended up walking down lasngruuvaturnuraji (sp?) street. Along the way I saw a pretty hot blonde girl in the passenger seat of a car going by. I ran after it, but it was going too fast. While I was drinking my latte, I swear I saw Macgruber walk by. It's a pretty fun game to guess where everyone is from. Soul patch? Frilly scarf/sweater combo? Acting like a douche? France. Trucker hat? North Face gear? Pal'ing around with your bro? USA. A little bit rolly-polly and laugh like an elf? Denmark. Maybe it's because I watched Inception on the plane, but it feels like everyone is looking at me, trying to identify the outsider.

I'm gonna get some sleep, recharge my batteries. Thinking about heading over to Sjavarkjallarinn for dinner and maybe a nice little night over at Nylenduvoruverslun Hemma & Valda. You know, all the usual places.

- CM

See You On The Other Side, J

Well, Catfans, my departure for Reykjavik is nigh upon us. Pleepleus is packed snuggly into my carry-on luggage for safe keeping, and I have my travel condom securely in place. The contents of my suitcase are: winter boots, socks, underwear. When I get there, I'm going to eat a hot dog. Ok... time's ticking down, and I need to go do some squats to loosen my jeans up. Remember to check in mid-afternoons next week for live blogs from ICELAND. I'll probably put up some pictures of the hot dog.

- CM

Catman's Big Adventure

After weeks of planning and preparing, the Catman leaves tomorrow for Riceland in Stuttgart, Arkansas. No doubt an unusual choice to many, the Catman has always been fascinated by the bulk rice processing industry -- wait a second, there's been a misunderstanding...

Iceland. That makes a bit more sense. The Catman sets sail (not literally) tomorrow for Iceland, where he'll spend a week swimming in lava flows, climbing glaciers, sledding with dogs, and desperately trying to stick his peep into something blonde, as he slowly comes to learn the meaning of the word "nei." His only companion on this journey? A stuffed monkey named Jableus, and you, Catman Nation. That's right, the Catman will be live-blogging the entire adventure (expect new posts mid-afternoon), and will field responses to e-mails you send. So ready those electronic quills.

A doodle

The Catman and I just had to sit through an hour-long meeting, during which I made this little drawing. That's me holding him as he sleeps. Be very quiet - he wakes easily!

The Cat's Meow... or Tweet

That's right. In addition to our new fancy(feast) look, you can now follow the ups and downs of the Catman on Twitter. (Just kidding. There are no ups.)

From the Desk of the Foreign Correspondent

Yesterday afternoon, I had to close out of all running programs for IT to remotely install a program onto my computer. This meant no conversing with the Catman for a period of 20 to 30 minutes. The Foreign Correspondent caught the fallout. (It helps to imagine the Catman as a news anchor* while you read it).

Catman: j has disappeared

Foreign Correspondent: maybe in the sun room taking a nap?

Catman: maybe

Foreign Correspondent: you panicking?

Catman: pancaking

he's just being a bone

Foreign Correspondent: why now?

Catman: might actually do a second cup of tea

need something this afternoon

to keep me going

Foreign Correspondent: that's nice

Catman: eh blow it out your ear

Foreign Correspondent:

you call j a bone

then start talking about how you're having a 2nd cup of tea

how is that interesting to anyone?

Catman: gimme mines

Foreign Correspondent: now you're just muttering

Catman: underwear's riding up

never get short cut

Foreign Correspondent: now you're really being dumb

Catman: bad bear

*A news anchor at the very worst news agency in the world.

--

Op-ed: The Relevance and Significance of the Catman in the 21st Century

This kind of exchange is what we've come to expect here at YDG, and probably doesn't surprise many of our readers. It's the same old equation: one part idiocy and one part frustration lead to a half part of comedy.

Some people may not know, but the Catman and I traveled to NYC this weekend. On Saturday night, he, alongside the Foreign Correspondent, regaled a small, but dedicated, group of YDG readers with tales of their travels. So the question is: With a shtick this old -- what is it that people like about the Catman? What brings them back for more of this cat-style of humor?

Could it be some fundamental flaw shared by all of them? While possible, it also seems unlikely. Could it be that the Catman expresses something they cannot, themselves, articulate? No. Definitely not.

I asked the Catman yesterday what he thought the Catman stood for, and he said "a guy who is like a cat but is also like a guy." The Catman has a very literal mind, and unfortunately, it doesn't receive much blood flow.

Then the answer arrived. The Foreign Correspondent informed me that one of the members of Saturday night's viewing audience told him that the Catman had been trying to get "back to basics" since High School, maybe even longer. To an audience spread across the world (we've got readers in 15 states and 17 countries), the quixotic and trivial pursuits of the Catman represents that one unchanging constant in their lives. To the solider in Afghanistan who sleeps restlessly under the fire of mortar rounds, and the Columbia grad student who finds his mechanical pencil has just run out of lead, the Catman is the one thing they can both agree to call home.