The blog step back 3

Unprecedented. Three blogs in one day. They said it couldn't be done. I just have too much shit to write about.

--I wanted to write about this days ago after it happened, but I had my first jesus-fucking-christ-i'm-living-here-for-the-next-five-months-this-is-fucking-unreal moment of the trip while walking along "los diques" (the dikes that divide a river) in the Puerto Madero district of the city.

Everything was just fucking amazing, and I only say "fucking amazing" because I'm just a small-time writer for Tucson's fourth biggest Nic Wise tribute blog and I don't have the literary skills to describe all the sights I saw on my walk.

Unfortunately I didn't bring my camera, so I'm going to rely on my half-ass writing skills to discuss the highlights of the trip.

1. Puente de Mujer (pictured above): In a shocking, unforseen upset Puente de Mujer became Justin Adler's favorite bridge of all time defeating the reigning champion Bay Bridge. I first saw this bridge from a couple blocks away and thought it was a giant harp. Then when I saw it up close I was in awe. Then when I figured out how it worked I lost my fucking mind. I don't know anyone who has seen it open, but I plan on sitting next to it for as long as it takes to see the huge bridge turn 90 degrees. Hell I might buy a ship, just to make it open.

2. Kids play soccer every where. I feel like a complete douche using soccer so from now on I'm using football. If you are in a crowded area you will see someone playing football every block. If you are in a less crowded area, you will still see football every two blocks.

While walking along the river walk a football team came out of no where and just started doing freestyle tricks such as sick ball handling moves and passing under random objects.

Everyone wears football jerseys. Unlike the States where wearing jerseys in public became uncool after Hov realized he was 30 plus, people of all ages wear kits all the time.

I also saw two kids playing football in the street and not even giving a fuck about the cars driving by as they literally would jump right in front of them.

The kids are cool as their dad works the Ugi's Pizza right next to my hostel. They started talking to me about Maradona, which was great because I was going on my 72nd hour in Argentina without an unsolicited conversation about Maradona. The kids, no more than 12 years old, said something about marijuana, then I responded that Maradona took a ton of drugs.

Then the little chico put his finger on his nose and started snorting air. I laughed and contemplated adopting him. To put this into American perspective, imagine talking to a little kid about Kobe Bryant and the first thing he does is bend over the nearest white woman.

3. Back to my list... I saw the coolest jacket I have ever seen in my life. All red, white colar, white trim on the sleeves, a white Nike Swoosh on the right and a thick-stiched rose on the left. Nothing else. I have no clue what the hell it represented or where I could get it, but it's now my dream jacket. No, I'm not sure why I felt the need to blog this.

4. There's a lot of shit I'm forgetting.

5. The greatest moment where it all came together as I figured out life and almost figured out the Dharma Initiative in the process came as I walked by one of the 800 swank, modern restuarants by the river. They were playing he Gorrillaz instrumental, that Lupe ripped in "A bathing harry" off his mixtape "A Rhyming Ape." You'd have to be Justin Adler in Buenos Aires to understand, but it was one of the defining moments of my life.

6. Oh yeah, all this shit is just in front of my campus.

----Other random shit

--There were some nice Brittish girls staying in my hostel room one night. While forcing the awkward football small talk that every American with the slightest interest in sports brings up with anybody from England, one girl said, "Yeah I have the Arsenal crest on my rock bag."

Within 2 seconds I had many questions:
----How'd you get a bag of rocks from Manchester to Buenos Aires?
----Why is a young girl smuggling crack across the Atlantic?
----How the fuck did you get an Arsenal-themed dime bag?
----Shit, can I get down on some?

Tragically, she was just referring to her backpack.

--I really wanna see Ari Shiffrin skate this city, so I'm starting a foundation right now that is basically raise money to buy the man a plane ticket. We need about $1,500, so start Paypal-ing money to elkgrove44@aol.com asap. Thanks. Your 990-EZ will be e-mailed to you soon after your donation.

--I forgot to put this in my magical walking list of earlier, but I stumbled across a huge soccer field in the middle of Puerto Madero. It was fenced in so it had the Rucker Park feel and both teams were wearing sick pro kits, one team was fully laced with light blue Barca kits.

It's now my new goal to find the Rucker Park of Buenos Aires.

--Speaking of streetball, this video of Kevin Durant dropping 60 in a Goodman League game is pretty sick. OK so I didn't watch the whole thing but Durant has a dirty step-back 3 from a couple feet in front of half court at he 5:30 mark. The Goodman League is the famous streetball tourney in the shittiest part of D.C. that got tons of national media attention when Gilbert Arenas started casually showing up completely unnanounced. He also drove up in his Maybach on some John Leguiziamo in Empire shit.

--Speaking of D.C. hoops, and this doesn't have to do with anything so be ready, but it's my favorite story that only I find funny. Once while creeping some hot girl I barely know on Facebook, I tagged Antonio Daniels in one of her photo albums that showed her at a Wiz game with Daniels warming up in the background. The combination of tagging a random NBA role player into a photo of a girl I had met once was just too much for me and I laughed for a solid five minutes after I did it. No that doesn't have shit to do with anything, but if Weezy can talk about the Gremlins...

--Props to my main man Gould for keeping me up on all D. Miles news. Mr. Kerr, please realize that Darius is the missing piece.

--At my hostel they played an accordian only version of Orgy's "Blue Monday."

--Special guest editor for Seth Janiga-related post: Seth Janiga. I regret the error of making the Tottenham Hotspur plural. I also regret not reading any of this shit over and posting it with 9 million typos and grammar errors.

--I learned today there's a Niketown in Buenos Aires I will hit up soon and hopefully find my dream jacket.

----Future WPM post you should greatly anticipate: My essay on how Juelz Santanas is as, if not more important than any other form of media that has impacted my life.

Also coming up soon, my obsession with Wall-E's marketing, my time on a pirate ship, some photos, random allusions to Beanie Sigel.

--I almost forgot but as I type my new Brazillian friend just came up to me and said "Fuck Man!" then ran away. Anybody who has talked to me for more than 3 seconds or read this blog understands my grand affinity for profanity. I can't tell you how much I enjoy hearing all these "foreigners" swear. I love how Brittish use "shit" as an adjective such as "this is a shit couch," but Argentines take it a step further.

I asked if I should go to some outdoor concert tonight, but the hostel employee told me "Don't go. Too much rain. It's fuck weather."

This other kid I hang out with says "fuck" before every word. "This is fuck beer. Why do you wear such fuck clothes? Fuck."

Also Argentines don't use "son of a bitch" or even it's literal translation "hijo de puta" they use "penoche de su madre" when something goes wrong. Look it up.

Matt Barnes

Even though the Suns are probably my fifth favorite team in the NBA, I'm fucking excited to have Matt Barnes on the team, provided they don't drug test in his physical.

Matt Barnes is one of my favorite players for several reasons: all his tattoos, his dunk on dirk, the time he crowd surfed after the upset of the Mavs and mainly because he is Matt Barnes.

Andy, Gould, Tarny, I'm upset with you all for not bringing to my attention the second this became public last night.

If we can now just trade Nash for Marbury I'll be a die-hard Suns fan.

In the social

I left my Arizona crew to hang out with a 31-year-old dot-com millionaire who retired at 30 to live in South America. I ended up getting tentatively engaged by the end of the night.

The night started out with mild ambitions, I had just bought Freakanomics from a local English bookstore and I decided I would just relax, read the book and get a good nights rest. I sat in the lounge talking with people who made me feel like a douchebag for buying a roundtrip plane ticket. Everyone in the room had been in South America for at least a year and had no scheduled date to ever return home.

I ended up talking to this guy named Dan because he was wearing a University of Texas sweatshirt and after five days of living with girls I needed to have an extended talk about Kevin Durant, D.J. Augustine and T.J. Ford.

After talking to the guy for an hour I learned he dropped out of college because he was offered a job during the dot-com boom. He then started his own company which grew to a 40-person operation that he always planned one day selling and moving to Costa Rica.

His former company was one of few in the nation that did some kind of advanced programing to make sure accountants weren't stealing pennies of giant transations, at least that's what he told me in short.

He sold the company right before the market crashed and then sold his mansion in Austin, Texas, which he said was only furnished with a futon in the master bedroom and a sick home theater in another room. He added that the only reason he ever bought a house was for the tax return.

He said he didn't have enough money to retire in the States, but he could comfortably live South America, even if it meant as an illegal immigrant in Buenos Aires who has to go to Uruguay every 180 days to have his visa renewed.

Basically he ran a successful company and just cashed out at the right time and had been living in South America for the last 15 months with all of his life's possessions in a backpack. One of the most inspirational people I have ever talked to.

I figured this was someone I needed to roll with for the night, so Dan, my weird Brazillian friend and I all went over to a corner store to buy the Argentine equivalent of 40s.

And for the record the corner store was playing K-Ci and JoJo's "All my life," (which oddly enough I tried to link to and YouTube dropped "This video is not available in your country").

We then bounced to another hostel that Dan said he had to leave because he knew if he stayed any longer he would have died. This is exactly what I was looking for.

I ended up meeting some crazy-ass people and then some chick from Australia.

When I'm sober I try to make conversation with foreigners without throwing everything I know about their country at them, however this was not the case at this point in the night as the conversation went:

"Hi, I'm Justin. Do you watch Flight of the Concords?" (Yes I know New Zealand and Australia are two seperate countries, but at this point it didn't matter)

Then she said perhaps the most beautiful words I have ever heard a female say: "I love that show! Do you have a Zune and can you send it to me?"

"Shut the fuck up," I responded because hundreds of Zune conversations with my friend Seppy have programed me to say "shut the fuck up" whenever anyone brings up a Zune and because I was in such shock. "I love you and you have no idea how great what you just said is."

We then talked about Summer Heights High for a while and after our conversation lead to a discussion about Luc Longley, I decided this was perhaps this was the one and I asked her to marry me.

She said yes.

I was at a dirty Argentine hostel/bar, surrounded by people who had been up for the past 72 hours and my new friend Dan. The setting could not have been better.

I now realize that I'm living in a bizarro world where nights of watching obscure Australian TV shows and owning a Zune, which is perhaps more bizarre than the former, are allowing me to meet girls.

If I can get 90s bullshit r&b videos to stream on my laptop I might move here.

Como se dice WL

Truthfully I haven’t done anything that incredibly amazing in Buenos Aires, but this might make my friends back home a little jealous; you can play Winning Eleven on the street.

Not only would this give everybody I hang out with a reason to go outside, but I believe it’s the first part of some bizarre Seth Janiga fantasy where he beats Spicker on a crowded public street in front of a gaggle of cute girls who are so impressed with Seth’s prowess they declare they want to fuck the shit out of him because they have never seen the Tottenham Hotspurs used so efficiently and effortlessly.

Then just as Seth is about to run off with said broads, Spicker argues the win was in PKs, brings up aggregate scoring and then steals Seth’s glory and WL-related orgy.

--Another tradition I'd like to see jump the pond - and by jump the pond I mean whatever body of water is between the top of Brazil and the bottom of the states - is the tarring and feathering of university graduates.

I sat with my American companeros and watched as an entire family poured a bag of flour over their now-graduated daughter’s head, then they poured confetti on her, before cracking a couple of eggs on her head. Then they all stood there for another 10 minutes and threw more shit at her. I have a picture of this somewhere that I’ll run later on.

--When I get to any city I like to find out which direction north is because I find this to be a pretty fundamental way of getting around town. Unfortunately most people in Buenos Aires don’t believe in this philosophy.

A waitress at a restaurant, who happened to be from Texas and speak English, told us she’d been working down here for since March. We asked her a million basic questions about the city and I asked which direction north is. She said she had no idea. I was fucking blown away as she’d been here for a couple of months and still had no clue where north was.

Then I asked an employee at my hostel and she also said did not know. She asked a man sitting at the bar in the hostel and he gave the famous Bugs Bunny “he went that-a-way” hand gesture implying north was in multiple directions. Maybe being so close to the South Pole has made the concept of north completely unfathomable. It’s now one of my goals while I’m here to find north and have a statue erected in my honor for the legendary explorer who found north.

--Speaking of statues, there’s a huge statue in the middle of the city that is covered in graffiti, and one of the taggers left his g-mail address below his work.

--I think this might be common in every other country other than America, but as we all sat and enjoyed some nice Italian food somebody came to the table and dropped off gifts. This would have been enjoyable if I was craving some gel pens and a mini flash light with my pizza, but I was not so we left the bum’s gifts for him to come back and pick up.

This ritual also repeated itself on the subway as a woman walked around and put a package of hair ties and barrettes on everybody’s lap, including myself and other men with little to no hair. I hope that some time during my five-month stay here somebody provides me with something I desperately need, such as an Oreo milkshake from Jack in the Box.

--I meant to write this early but I had my first interaction with the show House on my flight to Buenos Aires. I’d never seen the show before, but I’d heard good things so I gave it a chance knowing I had nothing else to do with a 10-hour flight.

In the first episode I watched Dr. House made this woman admit to her 12-year-old daughter that she is a huge slut who loves being fucked on her stomach, and then House made his staff give her medicine which made her eyes bleed. Then they drilled into her bones and smoke came out of her motherfucking bones. Then as she was about to die on Christmas day, House gave the woman some magical medicine that revealed that she had breast tissue below her knee cap, which was actually cancerous. Then House inserted a syringe into the said boob in knee, extracted a fluid, instructed the daughter to open her mouth, and then squirted the knee-titty-cancer fluid into the daughter’s mouth.

House then told the woman she’d need chemo and she was going to live before exiting the hospital as Christmas carols transitioned to the ending credits.

I know can say I love House.

--As I type this “Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas” by Frank Sinatra is playing. It’s July 18th for the record.

--At this point if you are not reading Will Leitch’s “God Save the Fan,” you are no longer my friend.

Things I miss about America:
---Honda Accords: You don’t realize how much enjoy them until you can’t see them on the road every two minutes.

---Stephon Marbury

Rebirth

Well Paul McPherson probably is not in Buenos Aires, but that will is where my search will take me for the next five months; and yes for those of you keeping track at home I am now using life and search for Paul McPherson interchangeably.

I don’t know how much I’ll blog of the trip because one of my goals is to wean myself off my blog addiction I have been feeding for the past three years. I’m now just going to jot down some of my notes on the day sans any semblance of transitions. Maybe one day I will try to write a WPM essay on my love for transitions and how I used to pour over my writing trying to make it flow as smooth as possible before I gave up on writing for the third time.

Just so I have it down in print I prophetically said that I would seriously quit journalism at least three more times before I finally do it. Right now I am still in the retirement phase that began in the summer of 2007 and I like to think that all the blogs is because they kinda pay and because as my friend Seppy once told me, “Where’s P-Mac is bigger than you now.”

--While taking a piss in Sky Harbor airport a man urinates beside me in an Arizona basketball No. 3 jersey. I die a little bit inside remembering that Brandon Jennings will never rock an Arizona uniform. Then I think that maybe he’s just a huge Will Bynum fan and I get sadder that I never got to see Will the Thrill throw it down in McKale. Then I go back to thinking about how awesome Brandon going to Europe is. Then I finish pissing.

--I normally don’t like talking to anybody on the plane, but I had to bother the person next to me twice. The first time was because I thought her shirt said “I heart DVD” then I bothered her again to ask her, “What do you call her (pointing at flight attendant)? A flight stewardess?”

“A flight attendant,” she responded. This was important as I needed to text my friend Beit Machine that our flight attendant had pretty eyes just like his sister and it was vital this was my final text message or form of communication in case the plane crashed.

I then decided that if the plane crashed I needed some better final words, so I texted my friend Tar, “This shfartz is reading an US Weekly in the BS first class with fucking sun glasses on.” Hopefully one my friends can offer a eulogy that explains that Justin wasn’t racist, he just loved the word “shfartz” and hated people who wear sun glasses indoors.

--I am 75 pages through Will Leitch’s “God Save the Fan” and it might be the best book I have ever read. Leitch is/was the founding editor of Deadspin and he now might be my favorite writer ever*. If you enjoy sports, mildly enjoy this blog, really enjoy any sports blog, have ever read Deadspin, like masturbatory jokes, want to truly appreciate Ron Mexico, enjoy brilliant writing; then you should go buy the book.

*besides Lang Whitaker

Summer reading

Normally I have a short list of books I plan on reading every summer. However this summer I didn't even bother creating a list, because I knew I'd never actually get around to reading anything off the internet. Reading is easily my favorite habit I never practice, much like Back to the Future is my favorite movie of all time, even though I have never seen it.

I'm incredibly jealous of all my friends who do read books as I feel they have a definite edge in many aspects of life on me. I wish I could appreciate 1/10000000 of the fine literature my friends constantly tell me about, but my short attention span, addiction to blogs and poor time management keep me from reading books.

The only book I have ever really enjoyed and been able to solidly recommend is "The Early Bird" by Rodney Rothman. It's a memoir from a television writer who decided to retire at 28 and move to a retirement community in South Florida. It's an extremely easy and quick read and worth your time, if you have a couple of hours to spare.

Sadly the last book I seriously considered buying was called "Monkey Portaits*" by Julie Greenberg. Yes it a book of nothing more than portraits of monkeys and some apes as well, hence the asterisk in the title.

I like to think that I probably read the equivalent of a book a day in internet journalism/blogs/shit. As noted before I read entirely too many blogs/message boards and other online journalism.

If you're incredibly bored this summer (which you probably are if you're checking a blog which has not updated in a month) and you're too lazy to go to the library here are my online literary picks.

Sports:

Roman's Empire - This is the blog of my buddy/former editor at the Daily Wildcat, Roman Veyieuaatstman. In short it's fucking good as Roman is a much better writer than I am and he's also more knowledgeable about sports than I am. If you like UA hoops and/or LA sports at all, read this.

With Leather - For my money this is the best sports blog out there, if you like off the wall shit. It's a professional blog per sé, so it updates like 900 times a day. I can't really describe the site better than it describes itself, "With Leather is a blog about all the assholes and idiots in the world of sports, and the hot chicks who date them. People who get offended or take too much pride in their favorite team should probably just leave now, because I hate you already."

Deadspin - A pioneer in the sports blogosphere, it's like With Leather, except for some reason I don't like it as much. Still a great blog though.

D.C. Sports Bog - I could write an entire essay about how I feel this blog has changed the face of DC sports. During the last Wizards/Cavs playoff series/fiasco I'm pretty sure DeShawn Stevenson needed this blog as much as blog creator Dan Steinberg needed Stevenson. I am almost certain the Wizards team and other DC athletes (ie. Clinton Portis) go out of their way to get on this blog. The whole Wizards team is hyper-sensitive of their media coverage and I seriously believe they often do stupid shit and throw stupid parties just to be blogged about.

Even if you don't care about DC sports, this blog is worth reading. It's also one of my life goals to figure out why this is a bog and not a blog.

Gilbert Arenas' blog - It's pretty self-explanatory. When it updates it's usually fairly interesting.

The Schoeneck Republic - I never read this blog, I don't really know how you could unless you live and die for Wisconsin college sports. But I respect any of my friends who have a blog, so Schoeneck, here's your shout out.

The Sporting Blog - This is Sporting News' blog, it's also professional in the sense it has a big sponsor and it updates multiple times a day. It's always pretty good, but this blog usually gets lost in the 20 others I read. This shit also has some sneaker stuff, as MaZe from Kixandthecity.com (a sneaker blog) writes for this site as well.

SLAMonline - This is the only reason there's a Where's P-Mac. It's still my favorite source for hoops news. There are like 200 blogs on this site. Most worth reading.

Channing Frye's blog - Again self-explanatory. Except this blog is more bloggish than Gilbert's, if you understand my definition of bloggish, which I'm not going to explain.

Goazcatsblog - This is a blog mainly written by a kid who really doesn't like UA athletics. He also really hates Lute Olson, but he can't ever write that because the site's fan base would destroy him. From my understanding the only hope the writer has for UA hoops is Brandon Jennings, who may Stephen Jackson his way out of Arizona. Still I recommend you read the blog, because it updates often and is generally worth the read.

Random:

How Dank is it?!?! - This is my friend Sarah's blog and as I said before any of my friends who actually blog I respect unconditionally. Sarah is in Africa to help save the world and is blogging her experience. What I didn't see coming was how fucking funny the blog would be as she found a genius theme, where she describe what she's experiencing, then rates it's dankness. Why? Because of this.

Aziz is bored - This is my new favorite small time comedian Aziz (something I can't pronounce/say/remember). Here's his tumblr, which is practically a bog. You have to be pretty bored to read it, but if you're that bored, why not?

Gizmodo - Arguably my favorite blog of every one I'm mentioning. It's amazing, updates 500 times a day and is always entertaining, just read it.

Stuff White People Like - This blog is fucking genius. Some really genius, witty writing. It's just genius. Read it.

Tucson Bike Lawyer - I'm trying hard to get into the Tucson bike scene, this blog captures the scene pretty well. I dig it. If anything bike related at all happens in Tucson it's on this blog.

Atiba's photo blog - This was the photoblog of the guy who shoots most of SLAM's covers. I don't know what happened to the blog, it was here yesterday. Maybe it will be back soon. If you like skating/hoops/photos it's a good blog.

Matt Price's photo blog - I met this kid through my spiritual adviser/good friend Ari Shiffrin. He told me shoots for The Skateboard Mag and he actually knew Atiba, which blew me away at the time and still does. He was cool and he has a blog, which is why his shit is linked to here. He's also the creator of Brimley skateboarding clothing/boards. He's ill.

Spread the F-word - I used to really love the comic F-minus. Now I think it sucks half the time. This blog is still half-entertaining, just like the comic.

Still looking for P-Mac

There are many of you who are either too dedicated to Where's P-Mac, too lazy or too retarded to read my stuff over at goazcatsblog.com. Read that shit please, I post at least twice a week and every now and then I'll post a gem like "All eyes on 3," where I am able to come up with a title that connects 'Pac and Brandon Jennings and throw down a sick Jennings interview. Where else can you read Jennings talking about people crying who can't get on the 18-year-old's bandwagon?

I hope you all understand that selling out in the blogosphere is the cool thing to do and switching blogs is a completely acceptable practice. Henry Abbot is balling at True Hoop, so is the Mighty MJD, Bethlehem Shoals, and the nine million other bloggers that AOL's FanHouse stole from their original blogs.

Even if you don't like Arizona basketball, which is completely understandable since it's going nowhere fast, read the blog as I try to make it as WPM-ish as I can.

Also I'd like to take this time to thanks life-long Bears fan and Fry's customer Alex Spicker for inspiring me to keep WPM updated. I'm sure if Alex had the opportunity he would encourage everyone to bank at Wells Fargo and only use words with one meaning.

Now let's get to some oldschool WPM shit, that I've had in my head for the past month or so...

First for these lame motherfuckers who are supporting the wrong McPherson.

I went up to these masked men on the UA mall and told them that they could spew their bullshit to me as long as I could get a picture of their silly sign.

Turns out they are a group of people wasting their lives by protesting Scientology. I refuse to even give them the satisfaction of Googling Lisa or linking to their shit, but they basically told me that Lisa McPherson was an old, rich white lady, who gave a ton of money to Scientology then got cancer.

Instead of taking Lisa to a hospital and using conventional medicine the broad was ironically killed by the very church she had supported for the better part of her life.

"They said they were taking her to a hospital, but instead they drove her 100 miles in the other direction and took to a house where they denied her food or water," the masked idiots told me. "She died of dehydration and cockroaches ate her dead body to the bone."

It was tough not to laugh at these people and it was even tougher to understand what they hell they were doing. By the time I write this blog a couple thousand Africans will have contracted AIDS, a few more thousand people will have been raped and killed, and there are a couple million more things wrong with the United States. But these people chose to spend their time protesting Scientology because one woman who was part of the church died from it?

Umm... OK... Find a real cause then come back and bother me.

Second order of business...
Somehow I my television watching has declined sharply in that I don't even watch anything on TV besides syndicated Seinfeld and Scrubs marathons, but Summer Heights High has been consuming a lot of my time recently.

It's a brilliant mockumentary of an Australian high school. It's shot like The Office and has one guy playing three characters like Da Ali G Show. It's created by Chris Lilley, who plays the flamboyant drama teacher Mr. G, the private-schooled, self absorbed teenager Ja'mie King and rebellious student Jonah Takalua. (BT dub all those clips sucked, but I didn't want to ruin that many funny jokes in the show)

The show is fucking genius in many aspects as it mocks a girl who overdosed on ecstasy and has a very strange relationship with mentally retarded children throughout the entire show. It also uses excessive profanity which is a prime qualification to become on of my favorite shows.

It was an 8-episode mini series on the Australian Broadcasting Channel that reportedly will be part of HBO's summer 2008 line-up. I never thought I would be obsessed with TV from Australia and it's neighboring countries, but after Flight of the Concords and Summer Heights High, I am now waiting for Indonesia and the Solomon Islands to step up to the plate and create their own comedic programing to entertain me.