Final Post

The most common question people asked me for the last ten or so days was: “How do you feel to finally be leaving Korea?”

My answer was always a mixture of things, a joke, maybe some generic bullshit along the lines of: “I’m sad but excited for blah, blah, blah,” or a pre-rehearsed line about being ready for the next step.

There was just no time to articulate my thoughts. It seemed that all of a sudden everyone was talking about the end and there was camping and cigars and whiskey and rooftop barbecues and hugging and retrospection and Gwangju and “peace out, homie” and gifts and kisses and fried chicken and all sorts of madness.

It wasn’t until I boarded the plane that I finally understood. The six hours prior had been a chaotic swirl of sanitizing and packing, two activities I possessed neither the skill set nor patience for. I closed down every account in either the name “Daniel” or “Lorenzo” and sent all of my remaining money. This brilliant action left me won-less for a cab or an airport bus, forcing me to make it to the subway along with everything I had acquired over the last three years. This had been packed into two suitcases, a backpack, and a travel bag, weighing a grand total of one hundred and fifty pounds (or sixty-eight kilograms for you metric cats). During this ordeal, one moment permanently etched itself into my mind. I found myself sprinting up a hill, an hour behind schedule, dragging the cumbersome lot of my things through the streets of Itaewon on a day where the temperature and humidity were both well into the eighties. Comparing myself to Jesus lugging the cross up Calvary Hill would be both inaccurate and blasphemous, though to say the image didn’t run through my head would make me a filthy liar. Along the way, two random Korean men and a Korean woman offered to assist me in carting my bulbous load to the airport. I don’t know if I would had been able to survive without them.

Once I had finally made it on the subway, I was bombarded with texts and calls. Desperately, I tried to think of something to say that was poignant and significant, but after a week of ritualistic binge drinking and watching the sun rise, I found myself emotionally and physically depleted. I was but a pathetic, white, sweaty shell awaiting transport with nothing at all to say back.

The revelation struck aboard the plane. My Korean brother had called me right before take off. Like with everyone else, I had no idea what to say to him. As it turned out, neither did he. All he could really say was: “My feeling is confused.”

And he nailed it. That is exactly what I had been feeling.

For the last three years, my identity had been the title of this blog: “Foley in Korea.” A lot of people gave me credit for giving up my established life in the States and living halfway across the world, but here’s the dirty, little secret: moving to Korea is probably the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You know why? Because, no matter what I did, it sounded impressive because it was “in Korea.” This novelty became a source of confidence and pride to me, and quickly became a major aspect of who I was.

Along the way, it became more than that. I found meaning in teaching, fell in love with beautiful women, studied Korean traditional sword fighting, spoke the language, found a family, and partied like I’ve never partied before. Still though, no matter what I did, the “in Korea” distinction lingered and propelled me to continue my wild lifestyle abroad.

And now, after three years, I have decided to strip myself of that distinction, as I no longer wish to rely on it. I am no longer “Foley in Korea.” I am just “Foley.” And, as my brother so eloquently put it, I find this fact very confusing. Though I will surely see everyone whom I loved in Korea again (seriously, count on it), I now face the challenge of re-establishing my identity in my birth country.

However, I don’t come back empty handed. No, I’m not talking about the twenty kilograms of kimchi in my suitcase. I’m talking more about the memories, experience, and choices that have made me the man I am today. Though I am no longer “Foley in Korea,” I am “Foley who once was in Korea,” and I believe there is something to that.

To my loyal readers, or first timers, I want to thank you immensely for choking down this narcissistic rant and any and all of my blog posts before this one. Your support made living in this land possible. And to the Korean Peninsula, and all the ride-or-die people I met in my days here, an even greater thank you to you. I dearly miss you all.

I’m going to leave you with this, a photo I can’t take credit for. This is my favorite non-female sight in Korea, a view from my rooftop, a collection of my friends and Namsan Tower, taken by my former roommate, one Terrence Kim. 

Why this photograph? For me, when I think of the glorious nation of South Korea, my rooftop view of Namsan is that which comes to mind, as if the soul of the country spouted out from atop the mountains, silently observing all those who had found their way within its boarders.

Much love everyone,

Dan Foley

July 2^nd, 2013

Greenfield, Massachusetts

Mimes, Makeup, and Mastication

Hello Lovers of Phallic Food,

Welcome to Foley in Korea. There's little time, so let's just jump right it.

What’s news in Korea? Well, the other day, I went out for a gaebul feast. Gaebul is a choice Korean seafood, better known by its scientific name Urechis unicinctus. They are a breed of long, pulsating, pink and brown colored cylinders with strange openings on the top. In English, they are known as Penis Fish.

No really, here’s the Wikipedia page, according to which they are also known as the “Fat Innkeeper Worm.” If that’s not innuendo, it should be.

Before sampling this phallic beast, I was told they tasted like “condoms soaked in fish brine.” Now, while that description surely got my appetite kick-started, your might need a little more, so here goes: they’re served raw, and continue to pulsate, almost as if they’re breathing, for as long as an hour after they are dead. But Dan Foley is nothing if he is not fearless, and so he prepared himself, downing a couple of bottles of maehwaju and go to the fish market (Maehwaju is what’s known as “flower wine,” but despite the soft name, I promise, it gets you tanked).

So, after swallowing a few Penis Fish, I finally can dispel all the rumors and tell you the truth about their exotic and long sought-after flavor: they taste like condoms soaked in fish brine.

…not that I know what condoms soaked in fish brine taste like.

Here’s a video:

Now, I’m sure a lot of you came across the article on the Miss Korea Pageant Contestants of 2013 and the controversy surrounding it. For those of you who didn’t, this picture should more or less paint you a picture.

(Note, these are twenty different women. Oh, now I get it).

Here’s the thing: I, more than many, have been public about my issues regarding the prolific plastic surgery levels in this country, and how they’re all trying to attain the same look and how beauty shouldn’t be a homogenous idea sculpted by a surgeon and blah blah blah, but guess what? These girls don’t look the same. Not even a little bit. This isn’t, believe it or not, a case of too much plastic. This is a case of way too much makeup.

Holy shit, right? For a full listing of these girls without the power of makeup, see here: 

For my next piece, I have to reminisce about my old Alma Mater, Boston College. Yes, back in my glory days, I remember, after a grueling winter, the happiness we would feel on that first day of spring. The sun would be up in the sky, while down below, birds would chirp and woodland creatures would play. But most importantly, the guys would pull out sunglasses and lawn chairs, because it was the day women would strip from their restrictive snow pants and don their skirts of liberation. We called this day “Skirt Day,” and it was good.

I told you this story so you understand why I love Korea. In Korea, every day is Skirt Day. Even when the weather is frigid and the streets are icy, women still refuse to wear anything but heels and skirts. This fashion decision is responsible for most of my happiness in day-to-day life, and now the fascist government of Korea, who clearly hates fun, is trying to take this away from me. They recently passed the "Over-exposure Act," stating that women who show will be slapped with a fifty dollar fine. At first, I was devastated. How dare they try to inhibit the rights of these women? Travesty! Travesty, I say!

But then everything was okay. Korean women simply ignored the newly passed law, and police officers just really don’t seem to care that much. The system works. 

Restrictions are not always a bad thing, though. Take Korean Air, for instance. These days, it is known as one of the world’s premier airlines, a monument of what the flying experience should be (read: hot stewardesses and good food). A decade ago, they did not always have such a pristine reputation. Back then, they had the nasty habit of crashing. A lot. The reason for this remained a mystery for the longest time, as the Korean pilots were as, if not more, qualified than other pilots around the world and the planes met rigid safety requirements. Then finally, the truth came to light, and it all made sense. The massive problem in the cockpit turned out to be that Korean pilots spoke Korean.  

One more time, the problem was that Korean pilots spoke Korean.

What the hell? Allow Lorenzo to explain. Korean is a complicated language and not just for grammatical structure and syntax. Confucianism enters all aspects of life, especially language. The result is a complicated system of respect built on a hierarchy of age and position. What that means is you can’t tell someone older than you that they’re wrong, which is kind of a big deal if you’re the co-pilot and responsible for hundreds of lives. You see, the co-pilot is always younger. So, when communicating a problem like “hey, you know we haven’t deployed the landing gear and are all about to die in a fiery death, right?” you can’t really just come right out and say it. Instead, you have to tip-toe around it, saying something like, “would you mind if we ran one more check of the–” Oops. Everyone’s dead.

The solution: They made all their pilots speak English in the cockpit. Problem solved. I’m just glad the stewardesses are safe.

While Korean is a beautiful language, this isn’t the only instance of the system of respect being wildly impractical. In fact, a friend of a friend exploited the hell out of this when he worked for Samsung America. He was a few years out of college and had a reasonably good job, one where he often had to travel to Seoul for business. He was Kyopo, that is, Korean-American, and spoke fluent Korean. But when he arrived in Korea to meet the business executives, he gave them the impression he only spoke English. Why?

Every one of his Kyopo co-workers who had done work in the past were immediately ranked in terms of age and status when they met with the higher-ups at Samsung due to the implications of language. But with English, he was suddenly a foreigner and on equal footing with them. What did this get him? Respect. Better treatment, better food, and 5-star accommodations in the Hyatt. Interesting…

In complete other news, I recently went to Chuncheon, an area of Korea known for its mouth watering dalkgalbi, boneless chicken grilled in a stew of spicy sauce and vegetables.

It ranks among my all time favorite entries in Korean cuisine, but that wasn’t the real reason for my excursion. I went down to Chuncheon for their annual mime festival, the largest in the world. And it was awesome, particularly for the utter lack of mimes.

Why is it called a mime festival? I don’t know. Instead, it was a giant water festival, complete with fire hoses blasting spectators and militant youths armed with squirt guns and buckets and the sole mission to make sure that nothing, I mean nothing, stayed dry. It is hard to sum up into words how truly amazing this very esoteric experience was. The best my words can do is surmount is this one snapshot memory I possess, where my entire world was this chaos of water, while hundreds of people were lost in a massive artificial downpour on an immaculate sunny day while an intoxicating mix of bizarre dubstep blasted from the back of passing trucks. Also, I was in a monkey costume.

The whole event makes the news every year, and I ended up getting interviewed. You can see it here. You just have to download the client to watch it (I promise to harm will come to your computer).

On a final note, I am a bit disappointed with the recent turn of events. I was hoping to spend my last two months in this great land being an unemployed scumbag finishing my book and growing a beard. But, knowing my terrible luck, I got offered a new job the week after I finished my contract. So, for the last few weeks, I’ve been working as a writer/marketer/consultant for this startup. It’s basically a restaurant app that finds your “food personality” and recommends restaurants to you based off that personality. It’s called MangoPlate, and it’s still beta, but available for download. Currently, it only covers restaurants in Seoul, but we hope to expand to other cities in the future. Download the app or like the Facebook page if you get the chance. It would make this writer a very happy boy.

Much, much more to report, but there is so little time. Get back at you, soon.

Much love everybody.

Food Guy

Should We Fear North Korea's Pudgy Dictator?

Hello Fearful Friends!

So, a lot of people have been messaging me these days, talking about how our gnarly neighbors to the North are gearing up to reign some sort of nuclear apocalypse down on our side of the DMZ and that I should probably get the hell out of South Korea before I’m vaporized.

Heavy stuff.

And while we all know there’s nothing I love more than attention, let me assure you, oh concerned friends and family, there is nothing to worry about. Now, I’m not a soothsayer (although I do like dressing up like one), it’s just I’ve got a good feeling about this one. How could I possibly be so confident in these tumultuous times? I’m glad you asked.

This is Kim Jong-un, the “Supreme Leader” of North Korea.

Handsome dude, right? He got his looks from Dad, a guy you might remember. He answered to Kim Jong-il.

If you don’t remember him, the late Kim Jong-il is famous for having overly eccentric and expensive tastes in alcohol, owning a video taped recording of every Michael Jordan game ever played, letting his people starve to death while he ate extravagant meals, and quitting golf because he got a hole in one on every single hole in the same game. Oh, and he’s part god, which helps explain the last part.

But now we’ve got Kim Jong-un, and he’s a bit of a wild card, right? I’m not so sure. I think, like his father and his grandfather before him, he’s going to carry on that family legacy of being that weird, short, pudgy kid you didn’t like in your homeroom class. You know the guy I’m talking about. When he wasn’t falling and “accidentally” touching that girl’s boobs on the way down, he was sitting alone in the back of the class muttering to himself under his breath. You knew he never had the balls to get into a fight, but that didn’t stop him from shoulder-checking you in the hallways. The nerve. Especially after you were nice and lent him that pencil in geometry that he never gave it back (not that you wanted it after he was done with it). No, you didn’t like this dude one bit. No one did. But no one messed with him either, because honestly, it wasn’t worth it. Sure, you could kick his ass. Your little sister could probably kick his ass. But you couldn’t do it, because partially you felt bad for him and partially because you knew he was going to fight dirty. Filthy, even. You’d win, but it was best to just leave him alone in the back of the class, muttering to himself about stabbing you with that pencil you lent him. Creepy ass dude.

You see where I’m going with this? Or did you read the first couple sentences and be like, “Foley. We get it. You’re making an analogy” and skip down to this part? Either way, my point stands. North Korea isn’t going to do anything. How am I so sure? Two reasons: history and logic.

History: North Korea and South Korea haven’t not been at war ever. Seriously. Even after the Korean Armistice Agreement in 1953, they never declared peace, only the lines that divide the South and the North. They’ve technically been at war for the last sixty years.

In this technical war-time period, there has been only one consistency. Kim Jong-un, his father Kim Jong-il, and his father Kim Il-sung, have all made the exact same statement over and over and over again.

“We are going to make Seoul burn to the ground.”

They have yet to set a date for this burning.

Now, I could bore you with all the political back-and-forth from the time of the Armistice Agreement OR I could tell you the shit that’s gone down in the last three or so years. I’m going to go with the latter, as otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll stop reading. Plus, chances are, if you’re reading this, you were either alive for these ones…or a really, really smart baby.

March 26^th, 2010: North Korea allegedly fires a torpedo, sinking the Cheonan, a South Korean navy corvette. Forty-six men die. This goes down right around the time I was thinking about moving to Korea to teach English.

November 10^th, 2010: North Korea fires 170 artillery shells on Yeonpyeong Island, killing four South Koreans (two soldiers and two citizens) and injuring nineteen others. South Korea returns fire dealing unknown damage. I have been in Korea just over two months at this juncture in time.  

April 15^th, 2012: North Korea tests a long range missile. People seem nervous until it totally breaks apart and crashes into the sea. Score!

February 12^th, 2013: North Korea conducts an underground nuclear test, the third in the last decade. We could detect the tremors in Seoul.

You see where I’m going with this? I’m not a political analyst, but I think this is where you have turn to logic. Everyone’s on edge right now. Why? Has anything even nearly as bad as some of the aforementioned happened? No. We’re trying to slap some sanctions on North Korea and they’re having a hissy fit. Basically, all that’s happening is that they’re flexing right now, and we’re flexing back, because half of politics is flexing, and that’s why it infuriates me so.

So if it’s not a big deal, why is everyone freaking out? I am going to place the blame solely on our friends, Big News Media. News media is a bigger attention whore than me, which is saying quite a lot. There have been no mass shootings in America lately (thank God), so people forgot all about the gun control hot button and are now shifting their concern to the North Korea hot button. After all, nothing gets ratings more than either making people scared or angry, and if you really want those big numbers, both. If you don't believe me, take a look at this.

Yes, there are whispers about North Korea pulling some shady missile stuff this Wednesday. If I had to guess, I’d say, yeah, Kim Jong-un might do something. But, while we’re playing the guessing game, I’m also going to guess he’s hesitant to do anything significant. That’s not to play down these small tragedies of Cheonan and Yeonpyeong, as they are tragedies, but they are not acts of war. And so far, nothing Kim Jong-un and his silly regime have done are either. Not yet. And the smart money says, he won’t make a real move for a long, long time, if ever. The reason being, if he does, he will lose the support of China, the only real ally North Korea has, and will be subsequently decimated by the United States and South Korea for his shenanigans.

But hell, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they’re planning something big and Wednesday morning, Seoul will be blasted to smithereens and go up in a cloud of dust. Hey, I’ve lived a fulfilling in awesome life. My only regret will be all the lovely ladies of the world that will never get to meet Lorenzo Van Foleyhorn.

But I don’t think that’ll be the case. I think everything’s gonna be juuuuusssssstttt fine.

Much love everybody,

Confident Guy

Happy Unbelievably Freezing Weather,

And welcome to another Foley in Korea. It’s winter time, boys and girls, but for all you lovers out there, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. Soon, everyone will be rushing around to get that amazing present for that special someone. Well, party people, look no further. I’ve got you the ultimate present, for a man or a woman, straight out of Korea, high-quality, built to last, and best of all, everyone can use it.

Here’s one more angle.

Now if it’s not totally obvious what this sleek, silver invention is, you’ve clearly never seen a ReFa wrinkle-reducer. My co-worker ordered this the other day and swears by it. She uses it every day. How does it work, you ask? Well, you simply grab the silver handle and slowly rub the balls all over your face…

Seriously, I can’t even write this. It totally looks like Silver Surfer’s penis and no one in Korea seems to make that connection. The Americans in my office were the only ones who fathomed a sliver of perversion from this. The moment she took it out of the box, we lost it laughing no one knew what the hell was going on. 

How’s that for a cultural difference?

But that’s Korea for you. Even after so long in this country, cultural norms still surprise the hell out of me. Like Christmas, for instance. In Korea, Christmas is actually a couple’s holiday, something along the lines of Valentine’s Days in the States. Now, while it’s not any more devoid of the birth of Jesus than American Christmas, our preconceived notions of what our version of Christmas will make what I’m about to tell you sound very strange. But, as it turns out, Christmas Eve is literally the best day of the year to pick up chicks.

No joke. Think about it. In Korea, it’s got the same basis of Valentine’s Day, a day for couples, but it’s a higher profile holiday. Not to mention, it’s right at the end of the year, and for all the the hyper-desperate women who need to start the New Year with someone special, this is their last real chance to hunt. Combined with the long, cold nights, it creates the perfect storm for irrational romantic decisions. I have friends who tell stories of going to the clubs and literally having to pry girls off of them. Hyperbole, maybe, but it does make a man think.

Speaking of cold nights, Seoul got pounded with snow not too long ago. While it turned the industrial megacity into a winter wonderland, it made me aware of the unhealthy Korean obsession with umbrellas. Koreans use umbrellas in every type of weather. They use it in the rain to protect against water, in the sun to protect against tanning and wrinkles, and in the snow to…what? Protect against the snow? Seriously, what the hell is that? Forgive this writer for his ignorant culture viewpoints, but there is something about snow umbrellas that is unholy and wrong. There, I said it. I’m not taking it back.

On the other side of the coin, I found myself pleasantly disgusted with the Korean foreigner population just recently as well. You see, on the whole, Korean people are quite fit. While obesity is on the rise do to the influx of American fast food, the percentage of overweight people in this nation is but a fraction what it is in the States. This translates to clothes being built with a thin, lanky body-type in mind. As you can imagine, I have no problem with this condition, but if I did end up putting on a few pounds and finding myself on the girthier end of the spectrum, I would have no idea where to go clothes shopping. Sizes in Korea run small, and the biggest thing I’ve found for T-shirts is an XL, which is the equivalent of a large in the States. That is…until I went Christmas Shopping. I came across the one and only Harley Davidson Dealership in Korea. This is the only place in Korea I’ve ever found that features the rare XXL and unheard of XXXL sizes. Now, one can only draw two conclusions from this. Either the Harley Store is catered to foreigners, or Harley Davidson’s somehow just seem to attract morbidly obese people in general. Either way, I find it quite funny.

And while we’re speaking of things that are funny because they’re massive, I recently went to a Noryangjin, the largest Korean fish market. For any of you looking to come to Korea, you have to come here. Even if you don’t like seafood, the experience alone is completely worth it. It is, in essence, a fish market—as in people selling fish. While that probably doesn’t exactly grab your interest cord and shake it for all that its worth, when you start to see what qualifies as “fish,” it becomes a lot more fun. Sea cucumbers, live octopus, and sea slugs are just some of the tasty treats you can purchase at this candy shop of underwater eatables, but the truly impressive thing is how stupidly big everything is here. King grabs that are the size of a three-year-old boy. You can see mussels as big as my head and shrimp the length of a billy club. Some of the tentacles are well over five feet in length. People, welcome to flavor country.

The best part is that there are restaurants connected right to the market, which means food never tasted so fresh…although the killing method isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. The sellers have these tools, something like a half club, half pick axe. The former they use first to stun the fish and the latter is for the deathblow through the eye. You’d think, after years of working there, they’d be better about their second hit placement, but sometimes it takes a little while, and it’s a bit gruesome as the fish flops around on the floor while the old dude with the axe tries to puncture its brain. Again, though, the taste is out of this world.

The last few months have been exciting in Korean news, as well. North Korea test launched a missile that made it further than Japan. The resulting implications of this are that they have the capability of sending a nuke a considerable distance with considerable accuracy. From what I heard when I was back in the States, the American news was very vocal about this…but that’s because American news loves sensationalizing stories. This was, for all intents and purposes, a pissing contest, and North Korea was simply trying to show that they could pee much farther than we thought they could pee. So no worries, my friends and family.

Likewise, Korea recently elected its first female president. Now, I’m all for women kickin ass and taking names in the political world, but Park Geun-hye, the newly elected leader, is a bit errrrrr…sketchy. To understand, let’s look back at the 1970’s and 80’s in Korea.

Following the years after the Korean War, Korean politics got pretty dark. The “democratic” government was really just wave after wave of military dictators, and they hated freedom with every fiber of their being. Gwangju, my former home, was the biggest opponent to this movement, protesting and fighting for freedom. Many died during the May 18^th, 1980 uprising in Gwangju, though this existed as a catalyst for change and ultimately led to free elections in Korea.

Fast forwarding a bit, Park Geun-hye is the daughter of one of those dictators. While I am not saying that this means she will be the violent dictator her father was, Koreans are awful quick to forget. At least, most of Korea. Gwangju and the Jeollado Province (the liberal part of Korea) are all horseshit over the results. Also, Park Geun-hye’s got a bit of George W. Bush syndrome, she got the job because of her daddy and doesn’t her qualification don’t really stack up. Perhaps strangest of all, in a country that is largely sexist, Park hasn’t really made any significant push for women’s rights. But hey, that’s probably why she got elected.

If it helps, men in Korea are getting far more in touch with their feminine side. BB Cream, a cosmetic I had been ignorant of prior to my arrival in Seoul, is totally man-friendly these days. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s cover-up, but now, it’s cool for men to do it. Kinda. On YouTube today, while in between video compilations of people falling down escalators, I saw an advertisement by Korea’s favorite celebrity, Psy, advertising BB Cream. Judge where you made judge, but in the end, it’s a total power move. Psy and BB Cream are now Korea’s two top exports, and this year, Korea is set to shatter its record breaking $4.3 billion dollar export record in 2011. This doesn’t really affect me on a day-to-day basis, except when I’m at the gym. Dudes wear BB cream there. It’s like, come on, bro, it’s the gym.

But, I shouldn’t judge things of such little significance. Shallow judgments lead to segregation, and segregation is bad. Korea, like everywhere else in this world, already has enough segregation. Racism, sexism, occupationalism, etc.  are all rampant in this nation, but Korea takes it all a step further as they segregate in…different ways. Three in particular come to mind:

1.)    American Military—There’s not a whole lot of love for American soldiers in Korea. While the vast majority of the soldiers here are just normal guys (and some girls) who just want to kick it on the weekends and stay out of trouble, the others ruin it for the lot. The term douchebag gets tossed around a lot these days, but these soldiers really epitomize what it means to douche it up hard. That’s not to say the Americans working in schools and businesses don’t start a fight now and then, but chances are, they’re not a massive, Kansas farm boy who has been trained to kill by the U.S. government. Seriously, some of these guys look like they eat rocks for breakfast, and when they get out of control, it’s akin to the Incredible Hulk. It’s no surprise that bars and clubs all over Seoul have signs that read “Military Personnel Not Admitted.”

2.)    Koreans—This one’s just weird. There are seven casinos in Korea. Koreans can go to one of them. I’m gonna let that one swim around in your head for a minute. Of the seven casinos in Korea, Koreans can go to only one. There are numerous theories as to why this is the case, all of which border on racism. This author endorses none of these theories, but will present them to you because he finds the reasoning awesome. 

·         Korean casinos were open in the past and it caused what was deemed as “social problems.” No further explanation was given.

·         Korean casinos are corrupt and want to steal money from Americans, Chinese, Japanese, because they hate anyone who is not Korean.

·         Casinos are irrational, wild, flashy, and risky. As this goes against the Korean ideals of rationality, stoicism, humility, and good-decision making, Korean people lose their damn minds in the casinos…along with all of their money.

Whatever the case may be, it’s bizarre.

3.) Hookers—One thing “Oppa Gangnam Style” fails to mention is the multitude of prostitution in Korea. A lot of dudes go to prostitutes in this country. I couldn’t find the exact statistic, but ballpark? It’s a lot. Businessmen go in droves after company parties, and it’s not hard to find one if you’re looking for it. The reason for this is a combination of the dated values of a patriarchal system of oppression and the fact that Korean prostitutes look good. They are not your run-of-the-mill toothless corner wenches who haven’t showered in weeks. They are more of your high-end-call-girl-variety who have been surged-out to perfection. Not that, you know, I’ve actually done anything with them...really I haven’t. I promise. WHY DON’T YOU BELIEVE ME?

The fact of the matter is, while most women work for an organization, others are freelance, trying to land a rich dude to pay them a stupid amount of money in return for some hanky-panky. In my last post, I mentioned how the online dating community is saturated with such freelancers. But it’s not just the internet community. Last weekend, though, I was in a tight-ass, upscale bar, where I noticed a hilarious sign. They’re so common in this joint called Glam, there’s actually a sign that reads “No Prostitutes.”

I say, where’s the love?

I apologize for not keeping up on my blog game, but it’s because of the sheer business of my life. I have been doing a freelance gig for CultureM Magazine, reviewing restaurants through writing and video. You can read my articles/watch my videos here and here. You can also view the model after party video I attended (yes, that’s right) through CultureM by clicking here. If you watch closely, you can see a half-second close-up of Fan Doley dancing with a model at 42 seconds in. Yes, I’m a very, very lucky boy.

I’ve also been editing my book, a long and infuriating process that involves more Scotch drinking than I care to admit. I’m about a quarter of the way done, so hopefully soon, I’ll have something I can start harassing publishing companies with. And, you know, if you guys want to read it, you’ll be able to.

Much love everyone. Know that I miss you all, and hope you’re all killin’ it, in any and all areas of life.

-42 Second Guy