Cut it out.

Looking good:

Looking illnasty good:


Today I worked out. As I was squatting using the Smith Machine I tried to re-rack the weight when I was finished. I managed to miss it and as I tried to move from underneath the bar it dragged me down to the floor. It scared the shit out of me. Maybe I should have been embarrassed. Smith Machine=1 Marty=0 (I won't count that one time I got nasty with it's baby mama). Wait. Marty will be around for a lot longer. Start getting used to it.

..........

A rather short list of things Mexico has to offer.

What up wit it Fresh? Alright enough of that. (I think I have turned gangster (which is always wonderful) somewhere in between Dublin and London). So I was making an American (god bless it) delight for dinner, Sliggity Sloppy Jiggity Joe's, ya dig? And my flatmate Adam came up to me and asked me a really interesting and specific (no doubt) question. We had been having a very intellectual conversation of American (god bless it) Fast Food places that they don't have here (and that I miss ALMOST as much as Black People). Let me fill you in. Scotland has McDonald's, Burger King, Pizza Hut, KFC, and A&W. If I think of anymore that I have seen I'll let you know (Barcelona had Dunkin Donuts). As I explained my love for greasy digustingness (food, not girls) he popped the big question(s). "What is Taco Bell?" he asked. My answer was simple "Awesome/Diarrhea". (I would ask my English major friends if it is proper to put a "/" in a quote because I obviously didn't say "slash" (although I do sometimes) but they can't even spell "RIDICULOUS", bitchass hoz). This question didn't bother me at all but the following question did fo sho. "Actually, what is a Taco?, I know it is some sort of sandwich but I'm not too sure of what it really is". My answer was simple "Oh, Lordy" followed by a Beyonce booty shake (I wish). I never thought the day would come where I would have to explain a Taco to someone. Where does one even begin? Answer: Nowhere. If someone lives in a 1st World Country (as Scotland seems to claim, I'd beg to differ) they should know what a fucking Taco is. Come on people. OK, I guess Mexico and all the other Central/South American countries that eat Tacos (I know it's traditionally Mexican but I also know they eat some sort of Tacos in Costa Rica), are far from Scotland but get real. I mean haven't you seen a movie with a Taco (sometimes known as Mexicans, racism is a beautiful thing) in it? Maybe I'm being too hard on the guy but it was all really surprising. I actually ended up showing him some pictures and described what Tacos usually consist of. So that's my story. The Tacos in this picture actually look straight delicious, on the real fa real fa real fa real on the real fa real, comprendas? (4 years of Spanish and I still don't know if that is correct). Anyways I'm outta here, I'm gonna go to the movies and laugh at the teen whores who try to impress young ugly Scottish boys by walkin around with their pink tacos hangin out (I'll try not to hit on them, no promises). My parents read this and I'm sure they are very proud. Time to answer 20 of the same question (Oh Al!).

Mr. Marty J. C (Oh Al!)

Since I lost my camera in Paris (I'm sure no one really feels sorry for me, afterall I was in Paris) I will have to try charm you guys with my words. The pen is mightier than the really fucking expensive digital camera. Damnit. Anyways, in my attempt to take a picture of what I look like (you should see my stomach, lordy) I took a badass picture of myself rocking my awesome Bears shirt. Since all the cool kids are updating their facebook profiles with pictures of Brian Urlacher or their imitation of Brian Urlacher (by wearing the jersey, it doesn't really work with fat mexican girls, sorry better luck next year), I decided to try it myself. And as you can tell, it didn't work. Meet Marty a 34-year-old peep show actor that loves to drink Boone's Farm and watch reruns of Roseanne, all while dreaming about what Condoleeza Rice looks like nakie (oh my god). But seriously, look at this picture, I think it might be the worst one I've ever taken. I actually used to think that it was impossible for me to take a bad picture. Silly Marty. This has ruined my pride (my ego) and has scared the kids. Anyways, print this picture out and put it around town and tell people that this is what Glasgow does to you. I thought this shit only existed on Jerry Springer and Maury.

Daisy Dukes

Over my very ridiculous/hilarious/stressful adventure with Ivica (more on that later) we lost a No Limit Soulja. Dearest Daisy is now charming other dogs with her ridiculously pungent smelling farts in DoggyDogHeaven (it's where Snoop Dogg kicks it with the illest 'bitchez' around, Daisy deserves it). If they sold 40z in this country I would definitely pour one out but instead I'll have to pour out a bottle of Buckfast which is what the Glasgwegian hillbillies love to drink. (I happen to love it as well, Tonic Wine, what the hell is that? Delicious is today's answer). Daisy and her bigass domepiece will be missed.

Bigass Rocks at the Isle of Skye.

The Isle of Skye is a little place just off the coast of Scotland or at least that is what I'm told. Although the scenery is very beautiful, Skye lacks a key ingredient...The Golden Arches (I couldn't find them and YES I was looking). They may not have had my favorite 5-star restaurant but they did have 'Sweet Home Alabama' and many following enthusiasts. I went with a large group (of losers) and I would have to give the award of "Ethnicities Marty Hates" to...Europe...bigtime. I'm kidding "Just A Lil Bit" (a semi-recent hit from 50 Cent). I miss Mario and the crazies that visit his house.





Guess who I saw taking a bubble bath here.







Name: 'Unknown' (although I had a lot of inapproriate nicknames for it)
Sex: 'Unknown'
Age: '23' (what a disgrace to MJ)
Blood Type: 'Dumbass'
Home: 'The Neverland that is Total-Dog City'
Interests: '1) Celtic knots on the small of back and also around (rather beefy) arm. 2) Blending Traditional Irish Dancing with a new form of movement which is also known as Gettin' Jiggly Wit It. 3) Being an all-around (and that's a lot of around) loser.
Summary from Photographer: 'This thing is the definition of the stereotypical American who loves talking about how Irish they are but knows jackshit about Ireland. After disclosing rather subtle hints of it's Irish heritage (i.e. 'Hi, I'm Irish.', 'I'm pretty sure that the tour guide [who has been doing this job for over five years and is a Highlands native] is wrong because I was told that those clans came from Ireland', and the fan-favorite 'Ireland is like a second home to me, I just got back from Dublin. Ireland really isn't like anything I expected, sitting at home in [The Neverland that is Total-Dog City] I really thought it was going to be totally different. But yeah, it was sooooo cool.') On a cold, windy night, this thing decided to sit upon a ledge (known as The Throne of Ugh) where it modelled for everyone. After performing it's new version of Irish Dancing (see above) it decided to cool off outside in a (green) t-shirt in weather that was labelled "FUCKING FREEZING" by many. As the wind rolled off each disgusting hair on it's body any onlooker could tell that this was a powerful moment in this thing's life. As it looked out into the distance it knew that it could finally go back home and tell even wiser and greater non-interesting stories about how Irish it was. It had finally made it to the mother country...wait a minute...isn't this...Scotland?'

WOW. I wonder where this kid is from.




Advertising ruins (pronounced roons) another picture.



This is our guide Graham. At first I thought he was going to be really annoying but we became best friends. He even told me not to worry because he would be "daddy". Gross.

Damnit.

So after thinking it was a good idea to run on the treadmill (yeah, I actually got my fatass to do something constructive) sock-less in my running shoes I ended up with this ginormous (I can't make up my mind if I like "combo" words, I'll get back to you on that one) blister. It has caused me great grief and heartache. But like Boyz II Men tell me (they actually told me 67 times according to my Play Count on my iTunes) I "gotta stay strong". I might have made that up. Who knows?

What up girl? Let me holla at you.

So I guess all of my fans out there are wondering what I have been up to. Let me tell you. Absolutely nothing. My mission is to really explore Glasgow and Scotland in the upcoming weeks. I am thinking about going to the Isle of Skye with the International Society. I can't stand traveling in large groups but they offered us quite a deal. The past 6 days have been full of rain and I think I saw "Bullshit" in the forecast which is something to look forward to. I must leave right now because my stomach is making ridiculously weird noises and we don't have any toilet paper in my flat. I think I kind of look like a girl. We'll see.

OH MY GOD! HOW ROMANTIC!

When I flew over from Chicago to Dublin I sat next to a couple that were ready to embark on their very romantic honeymoon in Dublin, Ireland. I pretended to be really interested in what they were going to do in Dublin, recently nicknamed "The Honeymoon Capital of The World". Look what I found.

Polish Power. "Newc-y Brown"