NEWS: Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

Who-ra! After several days stranded in Finland, some good samaritan turned Grant’s passport in to the lost and found in the subway station around the corner from where we were staying. It’s a good thing too; his own embassy hadn’t even made time to see him yet…


…And he was getting on my last good nerve. Earlier in the day we found the latest issue of Vice (the one in which we BOTH had pieces run) and though he smiled from ear to ear the second he saw it, he refused to pose for a picture. I was not amused (notice the lip biting, I’M PLOTTING MY REVENGE). Regardless, within minutes of the passport’s return we booked the flight home.


Luckily there was still time for shopping. Grant found Fanny Yogurt (“fanny” being the word for lady-bits in jolly old England where he’s from).


While I was shocked to find some MINIPUSSI.


Oh, and did I mention the only seats on the next flight out were in business class?


Forget the leg-room, they serve multi-course meals. See, course number 1…


And 2… how cool is that? Course 3 refused to be pose, but it was tasty. In fact, Grant was so preoccupied I took the opportunity to lift his passport. It was fun watching him freak out.


This time, when I finally returned it, it was Grant who wasn’t amused. Oh well, payback’s a bitch.


Seriously though, a big thank you to everyone who sent me pick-me-ups. Really, a million-miles from home, without so much as phone-money to call home, I never would’ve made it without the stateside love of you, my new Internet pals. Again, thanks.
PS—Justin, who for some reason took to sending pictures of his dog every few hours, requested some kind of Road Rules story in return. That’s not really the way this works, but what the hell, the next post is for you guy.

NEWS: Me ollan kusessa

NOTE: This is the only post I'll ever put up without a picture. Grant, Brian and I have had a crazy time in Europe. More wild stories, pictures, friends and fuck-ups than you'd ever imagine.... soon I'll introduce them all to you. But right now, I'm kind of in a bind. The title "Me ollan kusessa" is Finish for "We're in deep shit."

Yup, like I said I've had the time of my life in Helsinki, Lapland, Talin, Berlin and Budapest... but minutes after Grant and I made the crossing from Talin (in Estonia) back to Helsiniki (Finland) Grant realized he'd lost his pasport. Then he freaked the fuck out on me--but that's a another story--he can be a spaz. Anyway, what this means is Grant is going to have to go the British Embassay (he's english) get a temporary passport, go back home to his native England then re-aply for his lost visa to return back home to NYC. Fucking hell. But we're friends. So instead of getting on my flight home, and I was flying buisness class playa', I've decided to keep my man company. Offer him support, stuff like that. But now I'm the one in need of support. I MISS HOME. And I have no idea how long we're going to be stranded. Aything anyone can do to raise my spirits would be greatly apreciated. Send me an email (jakehimself@hotmail.com), leave a comment here, make me a card, something, anything...... please. Instead of spending Valentine's day with my friends, family and loved ones, I'll be wandering amlessly around a forigne country in dirty clothes. Oh well. Stay tuned. And as soon as I hit my home computer I'll be putting some crazy stuff up. Brace yourself.