My favorite place, so far, is a bar called Le Greenwich. This place is the ultimate chess club. Bobby Fisher played here!
That crazy bastard...
So last night, I headed into the fray. I consider myself a chess master...er...player. I accepted a game from a fellow named Art. He was originally from New York, but he moved to Brussels.
Specifically to play chess.
That should have been my first warning, but I had a couple of whitbiers in me, and I was feeling cocky. "How bad could it be?" I thought.
The answer is "pretty damn bad". Art pretty much made me his bitch on that board. About 9 moves in, he chuckled and said "I'll have your king in 6". Six moves later, he did.
As I was shaking his hand, though, one of his friends said I should be proud I lasted as long as I did. I guess that's something...
And then there's the Twitter incident.
For those of you that don't know, Twitter, is another blogging/networking site. The rule, though, is that you can only micro-blog, using 140 characters per entry. It's a fast, fun way to let people know what you're up to, in your regular daily life.
It seems that the computers here, at the hostel, have pretty strong content filters. One of the Tweets that I was reading contained the word "fisting". For those of you who don't know what that is...I ain't telling you. Google it, if you want...but I don't think you'll like what you'll find.
Or maybe you will. Who am I to judge?
ANYWAY, immediatly, my screen goes blank, and a message from the content-filter service pops up, saying that the site I'm viewing is inappropriate. I'm forced to hit the back, button, and can no longer read anymore tweets.
Those of you that know me know that I DESPISE being told what to do. Nothing sets me off more than some person/computer/networking site telling me that my content is inappropriate, I shouldn't swear, my gnome's not real...etc, etc.
So I react. I post a tweet that simply says the following.
FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING! FISTING!
Clever, huh?
Except that this entry appears on the very first page of Twitter. So now I can't get into it at all.
Sometimes my mouth writes cheques my ass can't cash.
Oh well! Bruges tomorrow.
Jim out.
P.S: Now the computer won't let me look at my own blog. For any of you who have ever wondered why I sometimes kick the shit out of computers...this is why.
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