Noob W/an Attitude

Back in New York after the wild wild south of Arkansas.

My first order of buisness was to get togheter with some TLnetter to watch the Bisu vs Mind final (who happend to be Mind vs Bisu btw). We all met at Culture's place and it was a ball

{insert here some pictures of us playing 2v2 on a kitchen table on laptop, and of pizza, and of some starcraft on TV}

A month left on my stay in the USA, I subletted a room in an appartement in Williamsburg Brooklyn.
That paid, I found myself with very little money to spend in a month.

So I decided to do something stupid.
To gamble it.

I got myself a ticket to Atlantic City and headed to the poker table. To make a long story short, let's say I am not Rekrul. I felt more like the pal of Shrek out there.
So I lost it all.

Here I was, on the bus back to New York, with less than 200$ in my poket to survive a month.

{insert here a picture of a homeless under a bridge}

But I was not to give up the game. Bisu would have, not me, nono, I was to keep on fighting.

The next day, I met with my friend Ariel (we shared the NYC-Denver ride togeter) and I let him buy me dinner at a puertorican place (btw really good food, fried bananas, yay). I talked with him about my situation and asked him how hard it would be for me to get a job in New York. He told me I could wait table pretty easly (I do have experience doing that in Switzerland, being a waiter is a second job for comedians). So I just entered the 1st French restaurant I came across and asked strait up if they were hiring. I was stunned to hear they were.
I talked with the boss (a short italo-american, who I found out after is a real asshole, no really a bad bad person, with shit all over him). After answering 2 questions, with my best french accent I was hired.

"Come back tomorrow wearing black, you'll be training for 2 days"

Yay I tought... I got a job.

{Instert here pictures of Didier in black in the French restaurant}

So I spent some of my remaining money on a black shirt, black trousers and a pair of black shoes. And the next day I learned the job of a waiter in New York.

See, waiting table in the US is really different that the job in Europe.
In Europe, you have a salary, no matter how many clients you serve, you are paid the same.
In the US, you are paid by the customers who are supposed to leave 15 to 20% of the bill as a tip (Better learn that if you guys plan to go to the US and eat out a bit, cause tourist who leave 1$ tip on a 50$ bill are really really hurting the poor waiters).
In Europe, you also have to do everything, from taking the order to bringing the food to the table and cleaning up after the customer is gone.
In USA you have mexican slaves bus boys and food runner who clean the place and bring the food for you.

So basicly, you only have to take the order and be funny, then make another joke or two and bring the check at the end. Then rake up the tip (that you share with the bus boys and the food runners.

Pretty easy! and since I am funny (other people told me that, I would never pretend to be funny if I did not have outside sources) I made pretty good tips. Actually I was kinda dissapointed when I had "only" 20% tips.

All was well. I aced the 2 days training and on my first day of actuall work I messaged (on my cellphone) my girlfriend to tell her the good news. When I got back to my coat 2 hours after to check if she had answered the message, I could not find my phone.... nor my camera.

My fucking phone and my fucking camera had been stolen.

{insert here a picture of a random black guy going through my poket in the employees locker and stealing my shit}

DAMN, you can call me unlucky.

I was so unlucky during that stay. I worked 3 nights and made about 8$ per night because we had no clients.

And I had to endure the boss.

{insert here a picture of a middle aged guy, about 1m50 tall and red with anger}

The boss, a midget who thinks he's smart because he's rich and will talk to you like you are some kind of shit. Actually, we the waiter were some sort of high quality shit, compared to the rest of the crew, the mexicans, to whom he did not speak at all. He would come to you and if no customers were within ear, he would shout like a mad cow about any thing. I just did the fist in my poket, knowing I only had to endure that for a month and then I would just never see him again. But I swear, I was close to go jiu jitsu on him.

I was his French guy, the one you put up front so the customers are happy, like the decoration. But mind you, all the personnel in the kitchen was born south of texas, and none of them would know what a Chateau Briant or a Poule-au-Pot is if they didn't have a cookbook in spanish to cheat on.

{insert here a picture of a guy in sombrero in a kitchen}

To end my bad luck streak was the death of my dog last week.
Just a few days before I got back home. Nothing much to say about that.

Well, all in all, I survived. And now my plane is waiting for me.
I will go back to Switzerland, see my girl friend whom I miss tremendously, my family and my friend. I won't see my dog anymore helas, but c'est la vie, as we say in french.

I had a ball in the USA during those 3 months here, and particularly with everyone I met. You guys.

I want to thank again, in no particular order of magnitude : Ariel, Jason, Monika, Ragnar, Culture, Nick, Andy, Klaire, Neil, SixSongs, Branden, Nicole, Sergei, FuDDx, Jim, Dennis, Susie, Michelle, Trevor, Justin, Rod, Jacory, Devan, Nika, Rajib, Jesse, Anouar and all the other that I forgot in the list for making my stay a wonderful one. You are all welcome in my house in Switzerland, just don't come all at once please.

When I was 20 years old I went on a 17 months journey around Asia.
India, Thailand, Japan then Thailand again.

While in Thailand I met a being that was to be with me ever since. That was in Koh Pan Ghan, on Than Sadet, a dream beach with only few bungalows on an island.
Up the hill next to the beach was a small restaurant, I used to have breakfast at that restaurant. Not only the view over the sea was marvelous up there, but also 10 puppies were playing with each other on the terrasse.

Now during this trip, I had many weird and powerful experiences that included dogs, wich I will not relate here, but seeing thoses newborn, cute as hell, jumping on each other in make believe fight, got me thinking. I wanted to take one home.



I allowed myself one week of reflexion. Taking a dog is a commitment, a 10 to 15 years commitment.
Being young, unwise and impulsive, I went up to the restaurant and asked the owner, Plaa, a young single mom, if I could take one.
She said yes, only if I was to take care of him well.
Of course I was.
Then she asked me if I wanted a male or a female.
I said I wanted a male, because I was getting along better with boys than with girls.
Only 2 males where born of the 11 puppies litter. One of them, Bom, was already adopted by a local weed dealer. That dog (Bom) was a nasty piece of meat, always fighting with the others puppies.
The other one was still there, and was somehow the favourite of Plaa's daughter.
I was reluctant in taking the girls dog, but Plaa insisted I took him. So here I was with the little 3 months old furball in my arms.

I had to give him a name, and I choosed to name it after the man bird warrior that is featuded on every official thai building and paper, including bills, stamps, banks.
I asked Plaa how it was called and she said it was the Garuda, Pha Ya Krut. That was too damn long so I shorten it to Klut and he was baptised.



I stayed in Thailand for a few more months. Travelling around with Klut inside my bag, fighting to get him inside a bus or a hotel room with dog hatin' thai.
Sometimes I had to get a bottle of cold water so that he could refresh himself by cuddling round it and keep quiet during transport. And when the time had come to go back to Switzerland, I had to fast during a two week so I could afford the cage to have him with me on the plane.



In Switzerland he acclimated himself pretty quick.
We arrived during summer and he was 4 months and a half.
One thing was strange tho, he couldn't seem to play with other dogs. He was afraid of them and could not understand european dog way of socialising. He was used to the pack, even that young.
He had played with his sisters, but mostly fought viciously with Bom.
I had to protect him from all the dogs we encountered in Thailand, for the law of the alpha dog is the custom among them and it's not unusual to see a stray getting mauled alive because he crossed the border of a pack territory.



Later on that became his only flaw. When he was 2 years old, and became a proper male (with balls and all).
He snapped completely in presence of other dogs. To him it was the way to go.
First we see if I can beat the crap out of you, then we play.
Of course, in Europe, people tend to not think like that... Their dog is an extention of themselves and is not an animal, but kind of a small human with a lot of body hair.
Well Klut was a fucking wild beast in presence of his fellow dogs.

More than once I had to pay veterinarian bills or plead his case in front of a judge because of that. He didn't get to play with a lot of dogs too.

God damn I should have thought twice before taking a male. But that was it, he was my dog.



One thing he got from being the favourite of the daughter of a single mom when he was a baby is love for woman.
He loved girls. Not only all girls, just the most beautiful of them. If he entered a room full of people (and there was no dogs there to fight) he would go strait to the most beautiful girl and cheer her up. That was quite embarrassing, but conviniant I must say.
He always got along with my girlfirends, except for the part where he lost his beard all over the place. Well anyways, they knew it, it was love me love my dog.



I enjoyed running in the forest, with him opening the way for me. I never needed a trail, for he could find one for me. I did not do that nearly enough with him. It was hard to get into the wild and unleach him.
I had to got for long walk in the parks at the wee hours of the night, just to make sure we would not cross another dog path.

It was mostly my excuse to play starcraft until 3am. He knew the "TchaaaK, Bluip, Bluip" Sound sequence that meant I closed broodwar was meaning going out.

He lived with me in all the places I been to during a decade. Lately he stayed with my mom. I fought for him, argued for him thousands of times.

He had the softest hairs a dog can have and he never smelled bad. He was loud, but he seldom barked, he use to sing.

I don't think I was nearly as good a master as he was a good friend to me.



None of the pictures up there are of him. For I do not have any with me. I left Switzerland 2 month and a half ago, those are of other dogs I met in the USA.

I will be back home in a week.

2 hours ago, Klut died in Switzerland. He was 12 years old.

Why, oh why would anyone go to Arkansas as they visit the USA?
It is a redneck state in the middle of the bible belt.
That was exactly what I wanted to see: The deep USA, where lives the people who voted for Bush and would do it again.

And I had another good reason to go there, friendship. See, one of my dear starcraft friend happend to live in Arkansas. He's known around here as Physician and that's the way I met him around 5 years ago on battle.net in a, at the time, busy channel of US-east called -op entropy.

So I spent nearly 2 weeks there. Watching movies, playing starcraft with Phys during the night and visiting the countryside during the day.

We went fishing.



and to the forest.



and to blues clubs



We ate crab.



We explored dead town.



And caves.



During one of our trip around Arkansas and Missouri, Physician took me to Branson.
Now what that hell is Branson?
Branson is the Las Vegas of Believers, the Folies Bergeres of Family Values, the Paradise of Light Bulbs.



I a word, the worst town in the universe. (That was way more than a word, but you get the feeling.)

If I may quote Physician here (no pun intended) : In Branson, old tv star come to die.



In this town, old peoples and other people who fell into the "I have shit for taste" cauldron when they were babies come to have fun.
And for them is provided tons of shows and other attractions. All with light bulbs, and singing, and family values, and banjo, and a cow boy, and a white blinding smile from an old and tarnished tv star from the 60's, and of course no black people except for little charlie because he's so cute with his little nose and big lips.

That town suck big time, we had sushi.



So that was my experience of the redneck america in a nut shell.
Where the flag is huge:



and the dogs are small:



I had fun in Suckydickyville there. But I was happy to go back to New York for my last month. I didn't know yet I was going to be unlucky as hell there... But that story is for my last blog post about that trip. Hang on to yar hat.

Well after Venice, I went back to Vegas.

I was feeling cocky and wanted more money out of it.

Oh I should have listened to my mother and known better.
That time I went during the week end, and it was a different game that was played there.

Every time I was sitting down at a table I was feeling confortable at, two pro would show up and reverse my mojo.



I lost my 1'500$ during those 4 days I spent there, and left with a balance of +24$...



Not only that, but the motel I stayed at had bed bugs and a homeless girl tried to pick me up and only transmitted her fleas to me.

Man that time it was HELL.



Next time I go to Vegas, it will be only for the rides and the shows. IF there is a next time.



I left in a plane to Arkansas to meet up with my friend Physician and boy I was glad to see the city from the sky... after a full body search at the airport, because I was marked as a potential threat to security (VIP, as they joke about it among airport security).



Really lucky me.

Bye Sin City, I am going to Arkansas, it'll suck less.

Dude, I have been surfing.

In 2004, I visited L.A. I stayed in Hollywood for a week and concluded that L.A. sucked big time.
So I came to Venice with a lot of bad preconception about the place.

Oh, boy, am I glad I went to Venice. Because now, I still think L.A. suck, but I know there is a place that doesn't, and this place is Venice.



Venice is known to GTA players as Verona beach. It is a place where you can skate, roller blade, surf, bike, play beach volley, basketball and lift weight.




Sufficient to say, after nearly a month of fast food and no activities whatsoever (except if you count walking thousands of miles visiting the different cities I went through) I finally reached a haven of sports.


I even did Yoga there.

Switzerland is not a sea country. We have lakes, and big one at that, but no oceans and no salty water whatsoever. So it is always a pleasure for me to meet up with the big one, and dive in it. I also had never surfed in my life. So I went and stayed for hours in a wetsuit, waiting for my wave. I felt like a less pretty Keanu Reeve, but strait.



I never achieved standing position, but that was fun.

I biked and played beach volley, but I spent a large amount of my time just hanging around Venice and looking at the hobos and weirdos that inhabit the place.




I met the french community of Venice, surrounded by beautiful women looking for American husband, green card style (if any of you guys want to make a buck helping a beautiful girl staying in the US, contact me by PM)

Sea, surf and sun.

Okay, here I was in Seattle, searching on Craigslist for a ride to L.A.
I did not found one, and many people were actually looking for one... So when I saw this add for a ride to Vegas, I said to myself, why not...

And boy, how good that decision was.

First of all, my ride append to be a Cree/Sioux native called Rod.



That guy was a well of knowledge and we really hitted off during the trip. Mixing chat about native traditions, chants, progaming and other philosophical topics. The 26 hour trip was really quick that way.



When I got to Vegas, we parted. Being so short a notice, I couldn't find a couch to surf. So I wandered downtown to find a really cheap motel. I found one for 33$, bed full of fleas and fighting couple next door. The works.



I spent some time downtown and on the strip. Vegas seemed to me like a Disney World for adults. Everything there is HUGE. I kind of liked it. Just look at the pictures to get a feel of it.









Then I phoned my buddies in Switzerland. One of them, Carlo, had proposed back in Switzerland to give me money to go play poker in Vegas. I told him I was over with poker, and that I did not plan on going to Vegas, so I refused the money.

See, a year and a half ago, I started playing poker with my friends in Lausanne. I played a lot of it, trying to get better and increase my understanding of the game. Finally after a year of playing it intensively (offline) I came to think I was not cut for it. I knew what I had to do to become better, but I was not ready to commit to it. poker is fun when it's fun, when you try to make it real, it become a job like others, except you are forced to spend time with assholes around a table. And I didn't want that in my life.



So I stopped saying yes when people were calling me to play and I spent more time with people I like, like my girlfriend ...

So here I was, in the poker capital of the world, with this friend of mine on the phone. He told me he was sending me 100$ over my debit card to play poker. So I said, ok I am going to play some.

First table I played, I lost some money... not much, but enough to eat most of the 100$ I was stacked.

So I invested some of my money.

And boy, oh glad I am I did.

In 4 days of playing 1$-2$ tables there, I made almost 1'500$ in benefit.
I became a target for the local pros, who I bluffed on many occasions and they never got the best of me.

I had much fun and that stay was very, very profitable to my shoelace budget.

I caught a bus to L.A., but I could have as well fly, with the money I made. One of the harder thing to do when you are winning money, is to keep your head on your shoulders and not believe you are a kind of hot shot that can spend as much money as you want.

Then I arrived in L.A. and headed for Venice Beach, where I was about to heal my body with a healthy regime of sports and good food.

Okay, I am sorry folks, I have kept silenced for too long. But I was busy outside the reach of the Internet, you know, traveling around.

Let's start where I left... I was leaving Denver and going to the emerald city Seattle.



First off there is no roadtrip story, because I took a plane. Yeah I hear you, what a pussy, this is not the adventurous ways I claim to crave.
Well the thing is there was that little event called the WCG I did not want to miss, and I could not find a ride on craigslist nor elsewhere. Taking a bus was kind of out of the question because of a nasty torticoli that was killing my neck. So I flew like a common tourist.

But I wasn't one.

Before I left Denver, I had no places to stay in Seattle. No hotel reservation and no friends there to host me kindly.
I used a nifty website called couchsurfing to hopefully find a home away from home.
The thing is, I got no answers before I left. That girl called Klaire (yes with a K) was ok to host me, but had not confirmed that, so I sent an email and just prayed she would answer it by text messaging as I boarded my plane.

The plane trip was eventless, no bearded fanatics tried to take control and to fly us into a building, boring.

But as soon as we landed, I turned my phone back. Bip bip the reassuring sound of the text message was music to my ears. Klaire had answered me and got me all the intels I needed to get to her place.



When I got there, she left me the key to her house after seeing me for about 5 minutes. We would not see each other for the next 5 days.

Now you got to be amazed at the level of trust some people just give to each other.

To better understand that, I must explain couchsurfing a little more in details.

Couchsurfing is a webbased community of travelers. You sign up and fill up a quite huge profile, stating where you live, who you are and most importantly, if and how many person you can host on your couch.
After that you become part of a huge database of couches available to sleep on for the pennyless travelers all around the world. If you are traveling you can search that database and enter in contact via the website with the couch owner.
It has a very good system of cross references, so that no psychopath roam the site.

It is sufficient to say that it rules and that I had a wonderful time around the house of Klaire in west Seattle. Klaire, her roomate Isabelle and her boyfriend were really nice people

That being said, back to the story.

The next 4 days I spent at WCG.

I won't tell you what I did there, because it is already eSport history.

After the WCG, I spent a week more in Seattle, just visiting.

I went to the Space Needle, but not on top of it (tourist attractions are not my thing).



I went downtown.



I went to capitol hill to pay my respect to the Grunges.




I went to the art museum



I went to Alki beach with this punk.



I went underground.




I went to a couchsurfer private bar that was the best in the northwest.




I went to the fish market




I went in the fog.




After a week, I had seen enough, so I wandered online to look for a rideshare out of Seattle. I wanted to go to Venice, California. But I found a ride to Vegas instead...

So I said to myself, let's go lose some money there, I have so much of it. So I went.

I arrived in Denver.

Why Denver?
Not because I want to see mountains, I live in frigging Switzerland.
Not for the cultural and social buzz around that city, there is none
Not for the shopping, I hate shopping.
Not because I am a Broncos fan, I just like orange and blue that's all.

But only for one (1) reason :


because Tasteless lives here.
And he offered to host me for free (yay!) just because I am a nice guy (and also because he is of course)

So I entered his house as a guest and met his jolly 5 roommates, Braden, Denis, Danny, Neil and Christian.
The 6 of them live in a small house just outside of their university, the world famous (or not) Regis University.
Anyways, these guys rules, they are gamers, they have a real passion for plants and know how to party.


It's been a week now and believe me, my alcohol tolerance was put at a test.

I had the chance to play Starcraft too, it had been a week and my hands were all shaky from the withdrawal. I had to prove I was not a noob


but some here are obviously.

We didn't only party during my stay here of course. They also showed me the DAM, Denver Art Museum.


The DAM is a really nice place for art, of course art is a controversial issue here on team liquid.
Let's just say I really enjoyed it and that Bine would too.



We went to Red Rock to see a concert, a cover band for abba was playing. For those of you who do not know what Red Rock is, well it is the best concert venue in the world. It is set into a natural amphitheater in the mountain 20 minutes away from downtown Denver and it is a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Unfortunately for you guys, you will have to take my words for it as I forgot my camera when I went there. Too bad, but if you are ever near Denver, you HAVE to go see something there.

We also had a outdoor trip to the continental divide. Yes, like the blizzard map...


Loveland pass, also called lovely pass by people with higher apm.

I played poker(not a liquidpoker.net link this time bitch) and lost too.

All together I had loads of fun here in Denver.

Now next step is Seattle, to see most of you guys and drink the beers fuDDx want to buy me, for I had my training done here.

Thanks to Nick and all the Debate Team Frat House people for welcoming me into their midst. Hopefully the downstairs area will be cleaned up soon.


Someone is compensating for something


Loveland pass


Ghost reporting?


Run, Neil, Run.


How gay is that? The t-shirt rocks tho.


Building, with mirrors...

You want more crazy stories, then here we go...


I left New York.

A very sweet website called craigslist.com (if you are American you should use this, NOW) provided me with an opportunity a penniless traveler like me could not refuse : A cheap ride to Denver.

Since Denver is somewhat on the way to Seattle (somewhat being about 1'000 miles southwest of it but whatever) and I had Denver on my to-visit list, I left the city that never sleeps vowing to come back later for a longer stay.

I met with the 3 people I was going to travel with in Port Chester (somewhere outside of NYC). Jacory, Ariel and Phil. Jacory had bought a beautiful Audi Quattro on ebay and had to drive the car to Denver where he was supposed to have a greater use for it than in NYC.

So on the highway we went, starting at night, the eyes firmly set on the anti-radar device set to keep us free from the evil people in uniform that pull you over and give you tickets.

All was fine for the first 10 hours, until somewhere in Iowa, a small blip lit on the control board. It was the engine, who was agonizing.

It died in Toledo... at 5am in the morning, on the side of the highway.


Highway patrol, AAA, towing truck.

We soon were inside a waffle house, dead beat, a third (if not less) of the way behind us, with a broken car and a mechanic who advise for repairs to "find a shovel and bury it"


Damn, this is fun.

Well after hitching a ride to the airport from a 75 years old chauffeur who thought we were part of a 800 peoples Indian wedding in town, we rented a car (for very cheap) and on our merry way we went.

The rest of the trip was without incidents, except maybe for the part I tried to drive at night because everyone was asleep. But I am not used to drive at all and I made those white lines chant 3 or 4 times (you know the Grrrgniaaaaw that wakes you up in terror).

We stopped at Omaha for pizza in a very friendly house and I learned that Omaha has the highest AIDS rate in the United States. Remember to wear your little protection if you ever have sex there folks (and everywhere for that matter too)


We finally reached Denver safely in the morning

I was later on greeted in a small Frat House near Regis University, whom I shall call the Debate team house.

But that is a story for another post.
(spoiler : it feature a celebrity from the starcraft community)




Dude, nice car.


Mountains at last.


An angel. (at the time believe me, she was)


Am I enjoying myself or am I not ?

So I went to Queens to meet up with Slog.
This is Slog :


We had a really nice korean supper, and I finally got to eat all thoses dishes I hear about but can't get close to in Switzerland (because korean restaurents in Switzerland are mad expensive).

I met two of his friends :

Sun Oh

and Jason

Whe played some Starcraft on Sun Oh computer. Slog is gosu, Sun Oh is like me, chobo. A real noob with an attitude!

Then we went out on a quest for the graal. We did not found it, so we went to have a beer or 2 in a korean bar. And we had some karaoke time.



Slog is actually a quite good Karaoke singer. He's always singing those sad korean songs tho. Maybe he was feeling mellow

I ended up sleeping at Slogs house because it was too late for me to get back to the East village. So we went back the day after, Slog tagged along and I treated him a beer in the Mars Bar


This is the oldest Punk bar in the east village. It was kind of weird but really fun. You guys should go there and get a beer someday.

Let me post some more pictures I took to conclude this blog post


Shoot him!!!

OMG, it's the red head from Desperate Housewives... who cares ?

Go get them trooper!!!

Ooooooh, fire truck


Well that's it folks.

I am leaving New York today. I found a ride on craigslist to Denver.
Prepare yourself Tasteless, I am ready to invade your couch in about 30 hours of insane drive across the country.