Wow, It Rained

So today was a relatively fun day.  I took a rugby ball into school, and the kids were suddenly transported into an alien world they'd never seen before.  It was fun, but also tinged with some regret that they'll never get to play properly.  I hear that there is a team here, but one team on an island this size, means that exposure is awfully low.

I broke a new personal record for squats at the gym today, and subsequently fell over a plug socket in the floor, prompting everyone to laugh; behind their hands or towels, obviously.  Koreans are generally not as polite as some other countries, but they still stifle a laugh when it's at someone else's expense.  The ways they're rude include barging you out of the way when walking, although this usually results in them on their backside, and shouting at you for no real reason.  They don't shout at each other, so this is presumably an anti-foreigner defence mechanism.

Talking of foreigners, this area is teeming with them.  The shipyards have bought in people from all around the world, and it often feels like there are more foreigners  in this particular part of Goeje, than Koreans.  When you step outside this little bubble however, it's normal (in that it's abnormal, if you catch my drift).

Every time we head past the docks in the morning, my brain explodes as to the size of the lifting machinery they use here.  They don't make the super tankers you see on these 'how do they make something so freakin' huge,' programmes, but the things they do make are pretty big in my world.

You occasionally hear them drop something colossal in the yards, and (bearing in mind they're ten minutes away) you think to yourself someone has crashed their car into a lampost.

In a similar vein, I saw construction workers outside, clambering around scaffolding (with no flooring, just great big squares, created in two dimensions) with no safety harnesses.  They were moving round ala ninja warrior, on the obstacle with two walls but no ceiling and floor - for those who don't know, you have your left hand and left foot pressed against one wall, right hand and foot pressed against another wall.  It was pretty awesome, especially considering they were high enough that a fall would be fatal, no questions asked.  And one was using an electric saw of some kind, while balancing on a single scaffolding pole.

The flip side is that they're hellishly efficient.  The road outside was dug up, down to the underlay (hardcore?  Hardcourt?  I don't know  how you spell it) and resurfaced in two days.  It's roughly 250m long, including all the odd pieces of side-street they've done.

The building outside that's being built gains a storey every week.

I recently got the opportunity to use a Nikon D90, which was tons of fun.  I'm waiting on the owner to send me the pictures, and hopefully I'll be able to upload some on here.  It was pretty handy, and the pictures looked to be of high quality (at least on the viewfinder) so maybe a couple came out  okay.  I was forced to primarily use the automatic modes, which essentially make it like a (frickin' expensive) point and shoot, but I did also manage to take a few snaps with the aperture priority mode, (to make the backgrounds all cool and blurry) only time will tell if they worked out or not.  It also had a pretty cool zoom lense, ranging from quite a strong wide-angle to a low powered telephoto.  I don't know the exact specifications, but it allowed for a varied range of shots without switching lenses, which is cool.

Anyway, we'll see if any came out.

In the meantime; bye.

Teachers Day

So Korea has a teachers day once a year.  Like mothers day, only for teachers.  Some of the students give presents, some give little letters and things of that nature; generally thanking you for your hard work and the fifty-odd detentions you gave them last week.

I've been working for a week, and I got a coffee mug, a percolator (plunger thing to make coffee with?), some chocolates (they didn't last long) and best of all - a pair of socks.  Awesome right?  I've only been there a week and one of the students gave me socks.  I guess I have an advantage  because they don't yet know what a hard-ass I'm going to be.  They pretty much all have tests next week, so I'm glad teacher day came up this week.

Socks aside, I've had three excruciating days in a row now.  Todays morning was terrible, there were dozens of things that went wrong.  The afternoon was okay, however I didn't get out of the office until 6PM, due to lesson planning.  To put this into perspective, school starts at 8.30AM and lessons end at  2.50PM.  Three days in a row.  That's not cool.  The overtime pay is pretty much illegal too, so there's no financial incentive, only the guilt tripping kind.

The gym closes at midnight though, so I managed to get in with plenty of time to spare, which is nice.

Anyway, I'm mega-pooped, so I'm off to bed.  Goodnight.

Basketball, and the Art of Not Falling Over

Basketball is quite good fun; if you're with friends, are playing non-competitively and don't mind being terrible at something.

It's kind of like bowling, in that you can practice one specific action one hundred times, and only hit it perfectly five times; all the while thinking, 'hold on a second, I did it exactly like this last time, why didn't I get it right?'  It's extremely frustrating, and when you only get a basket once every ten minutes you question why you're playing in the first place.

The reason, in case you're wondering, why I play in the first place, is fitness. It's exceptionally challenging, especially when everyone else is so much better than you are.  Everyone else runs half as much as you, (and incidentally - pockets twice as many points) while somehow making you run in circles.  I'm not really sure how it works, but the upshot is that an hour of basketball leaves you high and dry, wrung out etc.

It's definitely good for general all-round fitness, and when we finally get to play some american football, I'm going to be ready.  For what?  I'm not sure yet, but I'll be ready nonetheless.

Too Hot to...

It's not been so bad today, but lately it's been too hot to dress particularly neatly.  I keep expecting another teacher  to tell me to tuck in my shirt, or straighten my tie (even though I don't wear one) and walk properly, don't drag my feet etcetera; then it dawns on me that I'm the teacher.  It's amazing how often I forget that.

So my first day went okay, the first three classes were tough, primarily because I misunderstood the lesson plans from the previous teacher, so I ended up going over the same things again, oops!  This also meant that I set the same homework, so that went down well.

My afternoon classes went much more smoothly, partly because some of the kinks had been removed, and partly because they're older children.  It's hard to tell which classes are going to be the best, but I'm sure some will emerge as frontrunners.  Anyone who gives me chocolate receives an instant A on their next test - no questions asked.

I went to the local (sic) department store over the weekend.  Well, not over the weekend, but during.  The local store is around a twenty minute bus journey, and despite being imposing outwardly, is surprisingly small inside.  It's like a Tardis, only backwards.

They didn't have any of the things I wanted, so I guess I'll either wait or get them shipped over.

The most surprising thing was that TESCO has a branch here.  All the advertisements were the signature colour, and the store was laid out similarly; however something wasn't quite right.  I caught myself thinking: 'It's TESCO's Jim, but not as we know it.'

There's no Marmite either, which is a bummer.  That coupled with the food stalls erected about the store with servers dishing up octopus and squid led me to suspect the store manager wasn't English.

Friday

So it's Friday.  The first (and only) week of observing teachers is over, and next week is the beginning of a new endeavour.

Yesterday I played basketball properly, for the first time.  I say properly because I've played basketball in school, but it was more a case of who can push whom over first.  The actual sport is quite fun, especially when you play it with friends.  The technique of shooting is beyond me and, frankly speaking, I don't think I have the finesse to become good at this particular game.  It's fantastic for fitness however, and I'll carry on for that aspect  alone; playing with friends is the icing.

Aside from a fire alarm last night, there's little else to report.

I'm going to the gym later, hopefully I won't be shouted at this time.  (I still don't know what I did wrong!)

Oh and now that I've been alerted, I'm on the lookout for 'Calpis.'

Warning, Swearing Ensues!

So I held out this many days, I'm quite proud of myself.

The driving here is appalling.  From the first time I stepped into a car (literally within a couple of hours of being here) I knew the driving here was terrible.  I didn't want to pre-judge everyone however, and am glad to say that my boss can drive pretty decently.  (I'm not just saying that, she's the best driver I've seen so far, She won't ever read this, so it's not simply a bum-kissing exercise... Ok stop looking at me with those accusing eyes!)

Anyway.  The drivers here pretty much ignore red lights at their whim.  I wish I were joking about that.  The Korean reliance on technology has also had an unexpected side-effect, their digital world extends to the accelerating and braking aspects of driving here too.  Drivers are either 100% throttle bound, or 100% braking; there is no middle ground.  You can get whiplash without ever having an accident here.  It's not an isolated phenomenon either.  Some people drive like that in England, but not everyone.

There are some serious bum-clenching, avert yon eyes moments in just going to the shops.

And on being a pedestrian I can say this: (this is where the swearing comes in)

If you see a car coming, you get the fuck out of the way.  Even if you're on the pavement you step a foot away from the road.  Crossing the road isn't actually too bad.  I spoke to one american who likened it to a feeding time frenzy at the zoo, and cars most definitely have right of way; but it's similar to rush-hour London in that it's every man for himself.  Don't bother waiting for the green light, just go - blinkers on and get marching.

I've been told that Korea has the highest pedestrian mortality rate in any first world country, and that really would not surprise me.  Especially considering that most of the roads don't have permanent pavements.  Just like Japan, the streets are a free-roaming area.  Unlike Japan however, there are no laws governing who goes where.

Or maybe I have it totally wrong.  Maybe there is a code, so complicated that I've not deciphered it yet.  Like an ant-trail, with returning worker ants on the inside, outgoing ants on the outside, and the cyclists dipping between all lanes.

Oh and for those of you with an atlas (or google)  I think I live in a place called Okpo.  I'm definitely not sure about that though.

And a double Oh, for anyone who remembers Pocari Sweat from Japan, they have that here too.  Epic.

Boy, What a Day

So as has been my custom since coming to Korea, I awoke at 5AM.  My routine is actually surprisingly healthy, as I've a lot of time to prepare food in the mornings.  Today however, I thought I'd push the boat out even further and do my first clothes cleaning; what a mistake.

I'll go right ahead and say it, I didn't check the washing machine outlet.  I assumed it would drain into the drain, which, in fairness, it kind of did.  The problem is that the drain in question was covered by a recessed plastic block, meaning twenty centilitres of fluid filled the recess, while the rest poured out all over the floor in the utility room.  This was happening while I was having a shower, and by the time I'd finished, there was water everywhere.  The room is quite small, and the washing machine is enormous; the resulting pool could have housed any number of aquatic animals.  They would have to be washing machine safe, of course, but I might well have kept an aquarium back there.

So this happened around twenty minutes before I was due to leave for school.  I didn't know whether the utility room was entirely waterproof (it is thankfully) so I started bailing out with the bin, (the only waterproof container I could find) running to the sink and back, getting almost as much water in my flat as in the sink.

So eventually I just gave up, and headed to school.

Sports day was great fun - the Korean teachers (and some children) played the English teachers; (also with some children) but the score was rather unsatisfactory.  I'm talking football now, by the way.  It was a 1-1 draw, and it is only in playing football that we are reminded what a loathsome game it is.

I was initially afraid of hurting the Korean teachers, being somewhat larger than they were - but I need not have feared.  They were throwing shoulders and barges while being nippy around the park.  The whole thing was good fun, and the kids loved it.

After school I had my customary hospital visit, for the health insurance scheme.  I had three blood samples taken, (I didn't pass out or vomit for the first time ever!) eyesight checked, (which was funny, because the woman only knew the numbers 4 and 7, and the letters X and C, so I had a 1/4 chance of guessing correctly anyway) hearing test, blood pressure taken, height measured, weight measured, (85kg, +5kg since Christmas, I think my new target will be 90kg) the pee in a pot test, (for what reason, I don't know (answers are welcomed)) a chest x-ray and a basic dental check.

The whole thing was pretty painless, except of course for them taking all my blood.  One of my colleagues even asked me what the hell happened after I'd come out of the hospital, because my eyes were sullen all of a sudden.  That's what drastic blood loss does to you.  Three vials.  Was that really necessary?

So I came back to the room, drained the utility room (it transpires that a simple bung removing operation was the solution to the flooding.  Wish I had known that earlier!) and am shortly going to take a shower.

After today (27 deg C Humidity unknown, but pretty high) with all the stress and running around, the lesson plans for next week can wait.

The Weather Then.

It's humid.  Really humid.  This makes it feel substantially warmer than it is, (as of right now, 20 degrees or so) although it will get much hotter than this.

The beaches are nice, but the water is too cold for swimming at the moment.  Presumably the water will get warmer too.

Everyone is really nice, and the kids in school are pretty energetic.

I seem to have hit the jackpot in terms of location, because the supermarket (which I've only visited once, in order to get some breakfast; everyone has been so kind that I've not needed to cook yet) and gym are within five minutes of me.  Pretty much everything I need is already here, (thank you previous owner!) and so my shopping list is rather sparse.

I'm going to play some american football later in the week.  My limited experience of this sport suggests it will be easy to  begin with, (as it was when I played it before) but I suspect as with all things, the more involved you get, the more intricate the theory becomes, besides; it's always fun to learn new things, especially sports - it should be a laugh!

I'm debating whether to bother with pads or not for the training, we'll see how it goes.

I'm still suffering with timezone differences.  I woke up at 2AM today, and despite my best efforts only dozed until 5, I'm going to be zombified tonight.

I need to get myself a camera.  I find myself looking up at the scenery at every given opportunity.

My School

The question is raised (in my own mind) as I walk into the school and meet the pupils for the first time; who is more afraid?  Seeing as they can smell fear, I cast it aside and talk to those who are willing.  Luckily my mentor is possibly the most popular person on the island so the children immediately skip past me and dive onto the huddle forming around the other teacher.

The school is pretty much perfect.  The staff seem friendly to a fault, and it's all kosher.  It's all a little too good to be true, and frankly speaking, I'm expecting a giant boot to fall from the sky - heralding the beginning of a monty python sketch involving something along the lines of: Destroying a mans' dreams.

I'm now petrified of making a terrible teacher and letting everyone down.  One hurdle evaded in the form of surviving the trip, the next is to become a teacher.

My Room

Here are some pictures of my room, as taken with the little webcam built into my little computer:

This is the right-most looking picture, from my bed.  I deliberately included lots of wall, so that you get an idea of the size of the room (I was originally going to stitch a group of pictures together, but that was going to be too much effort...)

My little kitchen area.  Behind the frontmost wall is a little wetroom.  Behind the bed is a utility room with washing  machine and whatnot.

And directly to the left of my bed is the tv, sans HDMI port.  I've not bothered turning it on yet.

And that's my room.  Overall it's somewhat bigger than I was expecting, and despite lacking character, it's clean and comfortable, bonus!

First Impressions are Always Fun, so Let's Write Some!

So first off, Goeje is huge. No matter what it may look like on a map, and no matter how small the population, traversing this island takes a substantial effort. I've no idea how long it took to reach this place once we were on-board, but it's not a journey to be undertaken on a bicycle!

Unfortunately the couple who bought me here did not speak any English, and I can't speak any Korean, so the journey was mostly silent. What with the language barrier and my insistent drowsiness, very little communication happened. I would like to take this opportunity to publicly apologise to the two who bought me over to the island for being incredibly boring, and I am grateful that you took your own night off to do so. And as a side-note, the woman driving should definitely pursue a career as a racing driver.

On a tangent, the landscape here is unbelievable. It's absolutely fantastic. Flying overhead on the internal connecting flight, I saw the towns and cities perched on hillsides lit up in neon. Obviously I couldn't see the hills themselves, they were merely silhouettes on the skyscape, but the combination of mountaineering skyscrapers (I don't know what classifies a building as being such, but these are pretty damned tall) and hilltop of complete darkness (presumably because they're too difficult to build upon) makes for a completely unique view. I had theorised, prior to visiting, that Japan and Korea might suffer from similar land space issues, mainly that the land is primarily mountainous and therefore difficult to build on; it seems this is definitely the case, although the problem appears somewhat less pronounced than in Japan. From a classically minded perspective the urban sprawl isn't particularly eye-pleasing, but the endeavour with which they've built is fantastic.

The flat is surprisingly clean, if unspectacular. The only downside is that the TV doesn't have an HDMI connection, gutted! I'll go out and get an adapter later, or if I can't find a shop I'll use the internet. As of writing this I have no idea what the internet is like, because I'm not connected yet. Just storing a few diary-esque thoughts until I do get hooked up.

Everyone seems pretty nice, and two even stayed up specially to greet me last night, despite it being around 1AM; which was a nice touch.

I'm going to have a mosey around later and hopefully pick up some supplied from the local supermarket. That is, if I can find the local supermarket...

Let's fall asleep!

So I've no idea what time it is. I'm literally clueless on that front, and on the front of where exactly I am. I might be in Dubai, or I might be in the centre of Holland, I don't really know. I am looking around for Korean looking people, and Korean sounding people, but I can't seem to find any. Normally this would trigger alarm bells in my mind, but in this instance, as I'm flying on Emirates airlines from Dubai, I won't run around screaming; yet. As portals into the (un)known go, this airport is rather vulgar. I know they're only building on desert that has none of the usual environmental costs associated with, say, Runway 5 greenbelt – but the whole endeavour is something of an exercise is vulgarity. The shopping area is the size of Heathrow terminal 3 in its' entirety, the check in areas have more x-ray conveyor belts than the whole of Heathrow terminals 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5; and the people are completely humourless.

This is the american dream! Oh wait, wrong continent. Well the idea lives on, and is as strong and vibrant as ever.

On a lighter note (sic) the A380 is a marvel of modern engineering. The wing width is fifteen rows of seats, the dangle of which means you can't see the anti-air-disruption fins at the end of the wing. You know, the raised plates bolted onto the ends of the wing to reduce drag and increase efficiency. Well you can't see them when you're on the ground because the wings droop too much.

When you're in-flight, and the wings have resumed a position of relative normality, the wing has ripples in it, akin to a calm ocean, where certain areas are reinforced and others sag. Needless to say the whole experience is rather disconcerting, as are the myriad noises the plane emits while flying. I'm unsure whether the noises are due to my proximity to the various gears (due to being completely and entitrely encompassed in cattle class) or whether everyone can hear the noises. The various bumps and grinds do lend the craft an intangible mechanical feel however, and I'm rather fond of the mechanical in general.

It holds six hundred people, (both decks are identical in size, but the top deck houses rich people, with extremely long legs and even longer budgets) and roughly fifty screaming children. I think the children come as part of the plane, an optional extra along with the alloy wheels and booming sound system.

Let's Racially Profile!

Let's Racially Profile!

Having walked through into the departure lounge attached to the plane I'm soon to travel in, I was subjected to numerous security checks. Primarily including two ticket checks, along with two passport checks, some people are subjected to an extraneous passport check and extra quizzing. The questions asked were of the banal police type; do you have a job? Where are you flying to? Do you have any money with you? Are you planning to blow this plane up?

Of course I escaped the extra questions, being tall, white and boring looking. The police officers obviously didn't understand the memo regarding the racial profiling however, as they just asked two Asian couples whether they were terrorists. Plainly this is madness, as Oriental Asians aren't terrorists, only those in the Middle East are. The whole thing is stupid, racist and defunct, now that anyone of any race can be born in any country, have any religious view and grow their beard to any length. Why bother with this nonsense? It doesn't make me feel any safer, and I'm damn well sure it won't put-off any potential miscreants.

The bullish police officer would be much better served walking the beat in London, preventing and solving actual crime – instead of terrorising those of us who are leaving the country.

The whole thing is a stupid waste of money.

False Start

So I was scheduled to leave today, but my flight details were changed at the last minute.  The new schedule is sometime on Wednesday, (the flight time hasn't been confirmed yet) luckily no longer requiring a Herculean run through London via auto-mobiles and trains.  My visa has been procured, and bags are packed.

I'm not sure what to do with the extra time though.  I feel that something should be achieved with this time, but I don't know that this short amount of time will allow me to do anything productive.

I'm also a little sad that I can't fly on an A380!  Maybe my next flight will still be of that type, who knows.

Time to Run!

So I'm Korea bound on Monday.  The news is somewhat sudden, and I only found out when I was in Hull.  Unfortunately I'm only due back from Hull today, on the Sunday.

Monday is also the day I'm supposed to pick up my visa.

So I turn up at the visa office upon opening, pick up my visa, run headlong to the airport (at a guess, 50 miles away) and dive onto a plane.  This plane (which I suspect is a new Airbus A-380!) heads to Dubai, I then jump off, run onto another plane heading for Korea and swan in, as nonchalantly as is possible.  I then jump onto another plane, head down the country, roll off the final plane (because I'm now too tired to jump) and drive down to wherever my final destination is.  Not literally me driving, although I'm now qualified to do so...

And that short paragraph is how the day should proceed.  I'm far too nervous about any number of things going wrong, so I daren't commit any to paper.  However, from the above, I'm sure you could surmise any number of problems.

Just don't utter them aloud, otherwise they may well come true.

Attack of the Volcanic Entities

So as it turns out, mother Earth has gastroenteritis, and England is suffering from a freak occurrence of ash.  Like the erstwhile earthquakes inflicted upon Hull, much has been made of the catastrophic meaning of such events.  Everything from flying horsemen and impending apocalypse, to global cooling (an ironic comment, in more ways than I can list) as a result of reflected light rays etcetera.

Of course, this affects us not a jot, and despite the billions of dollars lost in revenue, the relative gain in PPM of Ozone will benefit the NHS in the long-term, as melanoma are reduced; subsequently costing less to treat.

And therein lies the problem of macro-economics - there are as many variables as people, making any attempt at predicting or modelling events futile.

As a side-note, I'm gearing up for the Korea bound move.  Having previously refused to accept the move as nothing more than speculation and idle hope, the necessary preparations have begun in earnest. (With or without my approval, ala my schooldays (Thanks mum!))  So I'm desperately trying not to get excited.  I'm failing, it must be said.

Country number fifteen, here I come!

That is, if the ashen cloud lifts.

Here's to positive thinking, eh!

Oh, and if you could all puff your cheeks and blow directly into the air, I'm sure we can hurry the cloud along.

Visa and the Process

I'm heading to the Korean Embassy in London on Monday in order to retrieve my visa.  I'm sure it will be painless and smooth running, just as all my other paperwork gathering exercises have been...

I've started procuring items for the transition now, including attire suitable for a teacher.  This painful and laborious process must be completed in order to become a fully fledged professional (in any field), and results in a life changing alteration to self image.  Maybe.

Driving test soon too.

That is all.

Zen and the Art of Pressure Washing

So I recently had to clean a relatively large surface (astro turf) with a focused high pressure water cannon.  The beam was focused enough that agonising slivers of green were revealed during every sweep, while the ruddy mottled brown, no matter how hard you try, laughs back.

Being notoriously lazy, a plan was sought to minimise effort.  This plan involved a detailed grey matter image of the surface, contours, and eventual route; considering environmental factors and footprints.  Once the map had been set, following myriad rules such as:  Generally moving from the top of the slope to the bottom, working in three parallel blocks (each sub-divided by two further blocks), moving no more than fifty centimetres forward at a time (on each block), and moving as much detritus (for the cleaner picks up many billions of microscopic particles, congealing them into a macroscopic ooze) to the sides as possible.

These rules generally applied, but were legitimately broken if problems, considering such factors as wind direction, footprints and astro fibre density were found.

While millimetres were cleaned with every sweep, time was taken to contemplate the route - but even this only takes a finite amount of time, considering the task seemed to offer infinite opportunity for inexhaustible fun (the seasons bring further coverings of rain, sand, mud and snow.  Each sweep would appear to take five years to complete, lending the surface to continual cleaning, non-stop, all year round) I had to occupy spare grey cell computational cycles.  Therein lies the zen methodology.  Plan your pebble garden (or cleaning duty) around a simple and convenient pre-meditated (sic) plan, and follow it, being as detached as possible.  The mind goes blank, and one awakes to find the work either complete, or someone firing paintballs at him.  Either way, some amount of time has passed, and the world is a little cleaner/aesthetically pleasing.

How to Escape England: Initiation Guide

So escaping this thankless country is the prime concern of a large number of people.  Roughly half a million every two years are now leaving, up from four hundred thousand every three years.  Of course these people are the monetarily mobile, leaving only those who can't afford to leave, or who have no transferable skills.  If you're leaving for a foreign speaking country then a certain amount of 'intrepid,' must be genetically encoded in the individual, but this is normally established at birth, and is therefore unchangeable.  The other aspect, willingness to learn the new language, is determined entirely by the individual.

So as the masses flock to the shores, attempting to leave this gigantic titanic, here are my top tips for escaping.

For gaining a visa, you need a number of documents, (depending on where you go) and these take time.  My overall investment of time was promised at 3-4 weeks, maximum.  From my own experience, budget 7-8 weeks.  Government ineptitude is one of the universal laws, alongside Newtons' own.

The second aspect is money.  Every document sent to the government will cost around fifty pounds to sort; including the numerous resending and associated postal costs.  If you need five documents, then budget for ten.  Some will go missing in the post, others will be rejected, yet more will be lost in the government system.

So all it takes to leave this fine and failed land is eight weeks of your constant attention and thought, (men are single threaded processors, afterall) and five hundred pounds.

Oh and a job.

Nothing Ever Changes

The same old same old has been prevalent around these parts for a while now.  I might be heading to Korea soon, but that's not certain yet.  Maybe, maybe not.  Who knows.  Besides; until I'm there and working, I won't believe it.  Don't count your chickens, after all.

On a side-note, don't take life too seriously.

However, on a tangential trajectory to the side-note (which would place it  in line with the original, perhaps?) 'Bulletproof Monk,' is a terrible film.  Do not watch it.  It's a literal and figurative waste of your life.  Don't take life too seriously, but it's a rare film that can take itself lightly and be respectable.  This is not one of those films.

Live life by the minute everyone!

Click to Enlarge.  If you've never seen Futurama it won't work.