Had a great time! Here's a day-by-day breakdown of the trip, from what I can recall.

Thursday:
Flew into Montreal around 5:30p and was immediately confronted with the harsh reality that Montreal was not half-French, half-English-speaking, but 100% French. After finding my way through customs to the bus stop by guessing at the meaning of french signs ("le grill?? What the hell is le grill?!"), I rode the 30 minute ride into downtown Montreal and found my way to the hotel.

A group of us Americans were staying at a rather luxurious hotel right in the middle of the goings-on, and after assuring the receptionist that the reservation was not meant to be for a "Jimmy O'Neill", I unpacked my suitcase and joined AfroNinja, Luis, Sniper and FBIPolux for some relaxing French TV.

Recharged, our small group ventured out into the city to find food and exchange our professional-looking green-back currency for some sort of mickey-mouse, monopoly money. Finally settling upon a Greek Restaurant, we stumbled through the French menus ("Uh...I'll have this one *points to picture*") and ate quickly. After the Canadian waitress tricked us gullible Americans out of our proper change from the bill, we took a quick walk over to the Karaoke Bar where the rest of the group was already enjoying themselves: Prootalfain, Bryce, StateofMind, Mike, DancingTurkeyGod, Malachy, Rig, 36Holla, AsthmaticHamster, Poxpower, Un-Kebecois, and Chrispington (if I forgot you, let me know. I have a terrible memory).

After some singing, some dancing, and many pitchers of beer the group stumbled out into the night to catch taxis to our various residences and hotels (don't drink and drive, kids). Swearing to never drink again, the gentlemen staying in my hotel room (Luis, Mike, 36Holla and AfroNinja) and an additional surprise guest (Poxpower) crawled into our respective beds and fell asleep (read: passed out).

Friday:
The day began bright and early at around 11:30a with the arrival of Jonas, fresh off a 13 hour car ride with Chronamut and friends from back home. After enjoying a healthy breakfast of pizza and caffeine in an outdoor patio restaurant, we retreated back to our hotel room to set up Jonas' xbox and pass a few hours until the next event of the meet-up.

Around 1:00, we set out again - this time for a Bar-B-Que held in the backyard of the residence of one DancingTurkeyGod and Chrispington. Aside from a few grapples with french pronunciations in the directions (thanks for repeating your street name 15 times for me, Michelle), we arrived and were immediately greeted with good company and warm meat. As the afternoon progressed, the group from the previous evening slowly reconvened over burger-eating, bbq chicken-licking, poker game-playing, beach-ball-tossing, fence-climbing, pokemon-walking, hangover-surviving fun, with the addition of new arrivals of Jonas, Chronamut, CrazyChihuahua, JordanD, Evil-Dog, and ShitonAStick.

Another subway-ride later, our American group was back at the hotel, showered, and ready for more Newgrounds-related frivolity. After a few unsuccessful attempts to find a bar capable of withstanding the unending insanity of 20+ people from the internet, we settled upon a classy joint by the name of "Charlie's". We played some pool, drank some alcohol, met another Newgrounder (Karulain), drew some penises on faces (sorry Chronamut), learned some french (or tried to...) and capped off the night with a nice walk home.

Saturday:
Got an even later start on Saturday, with a wake-up call at 1:30p. Again our group (Luis, Mike, Jonas, 36Holla, Afro-Ninja and myself) started off the day right with burgers and fries at a fairly cool restaurant (not sure, but I believe that the name of the restaurant roughly translates to "3 Bras"). After lunch, we grabbed some bizarre candy from a local drugstore (a milk-and-white-chocolate egg filled with odd, but awesome toys) and returned to the hotel to play some video games.

Soon enough, it was 5p and we were off to Laser Tag. Gathering all of the different users listed above (plus NegativeOne; minus a few that couldn't make it), we strapped on our flashing vests and manly guns for 3 death-defying tours in the 80s-rock-style maze of neon colors and more blacklights than your father's "If this van's a rocking" A-Team Van. I managed a solid 17/26 rank, shot Malachy at least 57 times in the face and pegged bouncy balls at anyone I could find.

After Laser Tag, the group split in two - the larger group went in search of burgers, the smaller group (myself included) ventured off in search of sushi. The 7 of us found an excellent sushi place, drank various Bubble Teas and Slushi's, ordered way way WAY too much and then had to stuff ourselves in order to avoid the "leave-food-on-your-plate" penalty cost (I've never heard of this extra fee before, but thank god we had Bryce there to finish that last plate of assorted sushi rolls).

Back at the hotel, we made a quick pit-stop into the Stickam room, showered, and ventured out once more towards the bars at around 11p. Finding a suitable bar to satiate our thirst, we all lounged about in the great outdoors, fighting the chilly night air with beer and rum. After the night's french-rap band packed up for the evening, the group retreated indoors to dance, drink and chat the night away. Before we knew it, it was 3a and it was once again time to head towards home.

On the way, our Canadian hosts were shocked to hear that we had yet to try Poutine and immediately directed the group towards a late-night fast food place. I shared a plate full of delicious Chicken Poutine with fellow-Americans AfroNinja and Malachy while JordanD and StateofMind enjoyed their own plate-full of Poutine.

Our night ended around 4:30-5a, the group of Canadian Newgrounds having escorted us foreigners safely back to the steps of our hotel.

Sunday:

I am tired and will write about Sunday/correct the other days later.

I swore never to return to that arctic pit of misery which lies just across our northern borders. Those damn dirty Canadians...Crafty bastards, the lot of 'em.

Track and Field Junior Olympic Nationals, Buffalo, NY.

The year was 2000, the beginning of a new millennia. A fresh start. I was still just a child, not even in highschool yet, thrust into a strange and dangerous world. A devastatingly...Canadian world.

I had qualified for two events at the national level that year. It was my first foray into that level of competition, and I was shit-my-pants scared, I kid you not.

My teammates and I had arrived a few days early, so as to minimize the flight's affects on our legs. Or, at least that's what we were told. We had no idea of the ambush we were walking into. It was a fucking massacre from the start.

It began innocently enough - one coach, a Canadian native, offered to show us around his country. Being naïve youngsters, we accepted the invitation and set off across the border. We didn't notice it then, but looking back upon that moment, my teammates and I all agree that an imperceptible change occurred, almost instantaneously, upon our entering that vast wasteland known as "Canada". A chill descended upon our very souls as we peered anxiously from the van's windows, apprehensively studying the strange natives inhabiting that ominous land. Fools we were - lambs being led to the slaughter - and not one of us smart enough to know it.

The van ground to a halt and we were ushered from the safety therein, quickly and without remorse. My teammates and I were standing in the thick of it then - just a couple scared children, surrounded by the enemy. Their ways were foreign to us, with their mumbled "aboot's", "ay's" and "pardon me's".

Without any fanfare, our Canadian coach, the Benedict Arnold of our happy party, led us on a walking tour of his native land. Hour after hour we walked, until our muscles ached and sweat poured down our ashen faces. We walked from the Falls to the Skylon Tower, from the Indoor Waterpark to the Crystal Caves. We battled through herds of moose too numerous to count, and explored acre upon acres of Maple Trees, with syrup pouring from every trunk. None of us can remember how long we walked - whether it was days, weeks, months, or just a quick afternoon stroll - we all seemed to have blocked it out.

The following day, my race was waiting for me - the first member of our team to suffer the result of the Canadian master plan. During the warm-up jog, my legs felt hollow and useless - feelings that, at the time, I simply attributed to nerves. Approaching the line, I should have been relishing the last few moments of my youthful innocence, but instead was preparing my mind for the race ahead. I should have noticed my Canadian competitors that stood beside me on that line - their smirks and confident swagger should have warned me of their nation's plan. But I was too young and too stupid to see the truth right before my eyes.

In a blur, my world was enveloped by gunfire and the smell of smoke. The sun beat down upon the 20 of us as we pushed off the line simultaneously, all of us jockeying for position. Even within the first few steps, I knew something was wrong. Horribly wrong. My legs felt like jello, forcing my arms and lungs to pump furiously just to keep pace with my competitors. After the first half-lap, I felt like I had already run a mile. My legs felt disconnected from my body, wobbly - as if I had forgotten how to place one foot in-front of the other.

I was already dead, but too stupid to know it.

Afterwards, lying on the track, my uniform sticking to my body with the sweat and blood of a futile effort, I knew exactly what had happened - The Canadians had taken my legs! My legs!! Raising my fists towards the heavens with all the rage a boy of 14 could muster, I screamed. I screamed against the injustice of the moment. I screamed against the Canadians and their fiendish plot to exhaust American competitors with walking tours of Niagra Falls. I screamed so that mighty Zeus would hear my plea and render that foul nation asunder.

But my prayers were not answered.

And now they want me to go back. They want me to land in the very heart of that hostile territory and remain there for 4 days, which is 96 more hours than I care to tolerate. They want me to interact with the natives, with the same people who stole my innocence when I was only a child.

Well, now I am a man *cocks gun* and this time I'll be ready for them.

WOOOO MONTREAL MEET 2010

One of the South Park Season 14 episodes, "Medical Fried Chicken", immediately reminded me of Dan Paladin's and Tom Fulp's Sack Smash 2003

Got there a bit late, but had the opportunity to hang out with a ton of cool dudes, see a bunch of games-in-the-making, watch the unveiling of this years' tank awards, smoke some of Tom's cigars and eat some sort of crazy "cheese-filled hot dogs".

Very cool seeing some of the best animators, game-creators, artists, voice actors and music-creators that Newgrounds has to offer all in one place. No clue what I was doing there, but as long as just nodded my head like I understood wtf people were talking about while discussing music loops, digital coloring and programming issues, I was able to slip by with my lack of creative abilities.

I would try and make a list of all the people I saw there, but I would inevitably forget someone that I had a long conversation with, and they would feel slighted. So I won't.

An Unscouted Photoshopped Picture invades the hallowed halls of the Frontpage "Featured Art" section?

You real artists must be outraged. :D

Picture a collaborative effort with the much-missed Jamoke.

The Stop Gagsy From Buying More Pink Castle Crashers Society.

With your help, we can stop her from amassing a Pink Army and taking over the world!

btw happy birfday gagsy

Go watch a flash that TehSlapHappy made to celebrate Errff Day.

http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/
533967

I have a cameo in it - see if you can spot me! :D

Well, I had a ton of fun. Thanks to Malachy for inviting me down.

Terribly unimportant game, and mediocre playing at best, but fun times had by one-and-all.

We totally didn't have sex, or anything.

But this deserves to be passed around- the ending alone makes it worth it.

I really need to get a box set of Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Why yes. Yes I did.

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