So, in Korea people do things that, to me, seemingly makes no sense. There's the people on the train platform that try to be first on the subway to get to the open seats. However, they press so closely against the doors that they aren't able to let the people on the subway car off! I don't understand how this little old woman who barely reaches my third nipple thinks she should power through half a dozen anxious bodies to get a seat that everybody would stand up and give to her anyway. Then there's the taxi drivers that ask you where you want to go, look at the address you hand them, then say they understand, but go the wrong way after you tell them to go straight, just to pull over and ask for directions.

AND THEN there's the guy that sits in the middle of the street on his chair...

But let's be honest, that pales in comparison to the absurdity that haunts the Korean streets. Oh yes, there are freaks, ghouls, and punks that roam the urine soaked alleys and dank marble lanes of the youth crammed corridors of debauchery. Places where the businessmen loosen there ties and aid drunken cohorts towards singing rooms. Where apologies are unnecessary for indiscretions, and semblances of such sorries are only mirrored and mitigated each week. Meanwhile, these distractions from civilized life are provoked further by promotional hussies in four inch inseam length spandex shorts dancing to a soundtrack evoking Tae Bo flashbacks from jazzercise junkies. But it's the drug peddlers that get my goat... damn pushers of medium grade alcohol that call themselves: Sojumen

Wait! Is that Sojuman pouring a peace offering to his northern brother Kim Jung Il?
Yes. Yes it is.