Sam, aka "The Big Dog," or cattleskin, got hosed. He was denied his visa, and therefore lost his university job that he had lined up. He could have still remained in the country and just hang out or teach under the table, but he instead elected to leave. He had no interest in sticking around and taking one more inch of kimchee flavored cock up his ass.
Angry Steve and I saw him off at the airport today. He is the first of the Babopalooza crew to leave the country, if you don't count Fritz, who left before the brouhaha broke. As Steve and I watched him walk out the gate, we shook our heads and felt our own share of the blame, since we were the two originally behind the show anyway. It's absolute bullshit. Some immigration officer has a massive stick up his ass, a stick that I'd love to yank out and take to his head.
Sam was my best friend here, and will remain one of my best friends in life. And while I am gutted that he's gone, I know that I'll see him soon down the road, whether it's back in Amurika or somewhere in Asia.
More friends will be leaving soon. Scouser Stoo splits in April, followed by The Caf. Happy Birthday you two bastards, by the way. There's no way I'll be able to find anything close to the banter/debate/abuse sessions that we've regularly held for the past year and a half. With Sam's departure the fellowship is already broken, so I forsee a lot of staying in and arguing with the cat over the next six months.