Just more than 24 hours after its launch, Halo 3 has sold $170 million and eclipsed all entertainment sales records -- beating out first day records set by "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" for literature and Spiderman 3 for movies.
CNET reports more than a million players have logged on to Xbox Live to play the multiplayer version of the new game.
To answer your questions, yes I do own it and it does kick ass.
The wives and I are hosting an impromptu party at the Ballard Burrow (our apartment) tonight for the season premiere of The Office. If you want to watch the hour-long episode in HD on the new 42" widescreen TV, come on over! The show starts at 9 p.m.
Paolo Does Europe - Sept. 1
Long day today. I hung around Interlaken in the morning and took a later train. The happy hour last night at the hostel kicked my ass so a morning recovery was totally necessary. My team of debauchery included a soon-to-be Marine named John from Wash. D.C. (looked like Nate Krahn but shorter); a French dude; two Australian girls and a Swiss Army dude in full uniform. Oh, and this surfer dude from Laguna Beach (He hates the MTV show with his hometown's namesake) kicked it with us later. A lot of drinking, a lot of chit-chat. That was about it.
I took this beautiful train ride today through the Swiss Alps and it would have been better if I wasn't feeling so nautious. But then I remembered, as I was slowly dying, that I had Dramamine. That shit is so good it should come in a powder form and be made illegal. I have to thank Anna for the Dramamine tip.
So I got to Milan midday, found my way to the subway and went to Il Duomo (big church). The plaza was packed. I met some old American women who were touring with a larger group. They warned me about the expenses of the city and that added to a list I was already compiling about why Milan isn't so great:
Il Duomo is the only thing to see in this city as far as I'm concerned. This is a city of business, and one that's not very accomodating to backpackers -- especially scrubby backpackers.
Alas, I still took some nice photos:
I had to make a critical decision at about 18:00 (6 p.m.). Either I could trek out to try and find a cheap hotel in one of Italy's most expensive cities, or I could skip ahead to Genova on the West Coast. I chose the later.
I was sweating bullets on that train ride, watching the sunset, not sure where I could spend the night. I fully prepared myself to sleep outside in some park.
When I arrived at 20:45 (8:45 p.m.) I immediately found the informazione and the dude there was helpful enough to point me to the correct city bus. Somehow I got to my first bus stop. My lack of Italian language fluency was seriously hurting me in this city. While waiting for my second bus, I overheard a few dudes speaking English and it turns out they're Lithuanian (or something close to that) and were staying at the same hostel I was trying to get to. The bus came and the group of us hopped on.
Up and up it climbed. The hostel is on a huge hill overlooking the city. Not sure if I would have found it solo. On the way up the guys told me about how their aiming to go to school in Genova and all about their failed attempts to "fuck bitches." Nothing makes me happier than hearing them dropping f-bombs with those accents. So funny.
I get to my room and I'm lodging with a bunch of dudes who don't speak English, and the inability to communicate is really starting to show! Take for instance how they turned off the light while I'm writing this. Now I'm writing in the dark. Time to stop anyway. Need to rest. I've traveled a lot today -- from Interlaken to Milan to Genova. Tomorrow: Cinque Terra!
I missed the news last week that The Stranger has a new Editor In Chief, Christopher Frizzelle. Similar to his predecessor (promoted to Editorial Director) Dan Savage, Frizzelle is that uber-gay hipster type who got his writing chops in the weeklies circuit rather than the classroom.
(Don't worry, Savage retains his sex column and will remain alpha-gay at The Stranger.)
What I found most interesting about this story, which I got from P-I Art Critic Regina Hackett's blog (tons of interesting reader comments there), is that Frizzelle first worked at Stranger competitor The Seattle Weekly but was fired for leaking information to The Stranger. Frizzelle found refuge at the ever-ethically-sketchy Stranger, which rewarded him the title of book editor in 2003.
This explained the unusually large, but expected jab by the Weekly in this article that reports Frizzelle's promotion and points to no fewer than 36 Frizzelle articles in the last three years that have some basis in The New Yorker, boldly asserting a tone that Frizzelle has no original opinions or commentary.
Gotta love local media competition, like when Seattle P-I staff took a leak on the Seattle Times lawn after the latest JOA agreement.
Paolo Does Europe - Aug. 31
I'm at the Eastern (called Ost) Interlaken train station waiting for a train to Grindelwald to head up into the Swiss Alps. Doesn't that sound badass and foreign?! I swung by my hostel and dropped off my backpack first. That fucker was feeling heavy in my travels here from Zurich.
I feel like this place is much more lively than Zurich, basically because Interlaken feels like one big ski lodge. My hostel, Balmer's, looks like a ton of fun and is supposedly one of the hottest night spots in town. We'll see. If the patrons look anything like the girls at the front desk, we'll be in business.
Oh Jesus! Asians everywhere. Seriously, a small army just sprang out onto the platform! I feel like I'm back in Federal Way. They've got to travel like that. I'm sure very few people here speak any Asian languages, so they're getting through their travels by sheer mass. A lot of folks here do speak English, so I feel like a lot less of an idiot today. That's a good feeling.
I think I'll party hard tonight and head to Milan in the morning. I really don't mind this pace of travel. The days feel slow anyhow. Hopefully that keeps up.
Later that day...
At Grindelwald now. Beautiful up here. I'm in the nosebleed section of the Alps. The scenery is dramatic. The mountains stare down upon this humble little town and we all stare back up in awe. It's touristy. There are a lot of walking sticks for sale. Could I use one? Sure. Am I too proud and cheap to get one? Yep.
The hardcore hikers are here. They're calloused and sunburnt, sporting worn gear. I'm not camouflaging myself well wearing Lucky jeans, spankin' new New Balance kicks and a Red Stripe beer fitted t-shirt.
I'm sitting at a cafe overlooking the melting mountains and am about to indulge in a melting espresso gelato. The Gummy Bears I've been eating all day weren't holding up. This is some tasty gelato. After this, I'm taking the train down to shower and catch a nap. Did I mention that I think everything in Harry Potter is shaped by Switzerland?