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enough of this thailand nonsense. i'm off to burma tomorrow. no skinternet access and sneaking into restricted areas are gonna make my trip completely undocumented until after i've escaped... i'm sure you'll hold your collective breath in anticipation (yawn).
by the way, i still (heart) thailand
donkey punch me with fury then call me sally. dennis was right! the thing in my ear turned out to be a zit! it burst today producing a gooey substance i immediately recognized as the typical pus-blood concoction.
sure, zits form on your buttockal region and often rears its ugly head in the form of "backne" but i've never heard of ear pimples (pun regrettably intended).
now i don't have to go to the hospital to get this checked out. instead i'll use the "saved" day to eat an extra meal of generously dolloped pad see ewe.
i'm not gonna lie. this is the greatest holiday since i started celebrating Celine Dion's birthday! songkran, slated to begin tomorrow, got off to an early start today by enthusiastic crowds of no goodnicks picking water fights with complete strangers. everywhere you go, you're bound to be hit by ice cold water, shrinking men's testicles and in some cases retracting them inside the body cavity like a frightened clam. whether you're falang (white folk), thai, or hunchback, no one is spared the moistness, least of all, attractive girls blessed by god's goodness. occasionally, a grumpy old dude or self-righteous israeli spoils the fun with a temper tantrum. sucks for them as that makes them a more delicious target for those of us that are launching water from upper level floors.
all of khao san road is a water fight and judging by the number of super soakers in people's hands, water gun sales must increase 50 fold during the 3 day festival. fist-fights and gropings, too must increase proportionally during this time. the targeted body parts are naturally the breasticle area for women and surprisingly the groin area for men. with so many women around with wet t-shirts, a good groin soaking is in order. i didn't think it'd be possible to stay engorged for such a large proportion of the day but the odd groin soaking soothes the savage beast, so to speak.
over the next 3 days, i plan on sitting comfortably on my 5th floor balcony and raining buckets filled with dirty tap water on any poor soul who happens to be caught under my wrath. is it a weasel move? yes, but one that'll surely keep my body parts free from the sufferings of hot weather chafing.
i (heart) thailand!!!
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/11/international/asia/11japan.html
I feel china should be allowed to demonstrate in protest of japanese textbooks. then the nips come and protest the original protest. well guess what, i protest japan's protest!
anyone wanna protest that?! if so, i'll put a jihad on your protest and don't you dare protest my jihad!
i just popped a really painful zit on my nose.
i'm more or less stuck in bangkok until the start of the Songkran Festival in a week. for those that have lived in a cave for your entire lives, the songkran festival amounts to what is essentially a 3-day water fight. those equipped with it, run around with large water canons and douse any victim regardless of age, sexual ambiguity, or nationality. basically, i'm waiting around to get my rocks off when t-shirts become transparent with moistness. i'll surely be armed with my camera taking photographs galore - maybe even of women this time.
in the meantime, enjoy my aggregated list of actual names that exist in bangkok which sound either unintentionally pornographic or can possibly be used in the making of pornography:
and that's just in bangkok! with city names like Phuket and Koh Pee Pee, there's no end in sight to lower and lower levels of immaturity.
i <3 thailand!
(this in no way represents a comprehensive list and go ahead, i dare you to check if i'm making this up)
dear drooling masses,
don't be confused, i didn't misspell "louse" so you're not gonna get a series of parasite pictures. but, i suppose that all depends on your opinion of backpacking german or french tourists.
not too much going on in laos. just a pleasant country with the number 2 friendliest people in the world after cambodia. and fear not for i made not a single dong joke in my pictures (i think).
thejerk
the chunky sack claims he'd beaten me to our contest of photographing a bolt of lightning.
you saw it here first which means i win. s. korea 1, poland 0.
the jerks have finally left thailand.
with them go uncountable numbers of atrocities (a few of which are listed here):
harish - on a bus, scalding a thai lady seated directly behind him with seering hot water
chunky sack - "accidentally" hitting the syrian guy's and my face numerous times with various body parts. also crushed a thai man's finger with a sliding van door
syrian guy - desecrating a store's private tsunami relief donation memorial by knocking it and its contents onto the floor. systematically desecrating every toilet in each hotel we occupied with explosive diarrhea.
on the second to last night, i tried to dissuade these 3 dirtballs from getting red light district prostitutes. i'm afraid i failed miserably.
please inform california customs officials. they're carrying many illegal items they've euphmistically dubbed "entertainment" including pirated erotic DVDs and a wide assortment of jellies and salves. i'm not fully sure but i have a reliable hunch that the syrian nightmare stuffed a midget thai lady into his bag.
we were awoken at midnight on March 28th and told in broken english that a tsunami warning was in effect. another earthquake had just struck the same area near indonesia as before. what from bangkok would have appeared comical turned painfully real now that we were staying directly on the western beach on koh lanta in thailand, an island that was partially demolished by the december 26th tsunami. after soiling myself, i grabbed most of my belongings and boarded the bed of a pickup truck where i was joined by harish, the chunky sack, and the syrian nightmare, promptly after they too finished soiling themselves. atop the hill, we nervously awaited our fate without access to any information about the new tsunami. in the meantime, as we later discovered, a looter was robbing the syrian nightmare of a pair of shorts he'd hung out to dry on our porch. ironically, the joke is on the burglar. those were drying as a result of a thorough bout of explosive diarrhea that desecrated the now unholy shorts rendering them diseased and unspeakably filthy.
if reality television had taught me anything, it was that i knew i had a duty to save lives. i tried to rescue as many children and animals as possible but i was overloaded with diet coke looted from the resort gift-shop so i chose the lightest child with a half-empty backpack (for extra diet coke storage) and escorted (although the local authorities later labeled it "kidnapped") him up the hill.
as we waited atop this hill, our resort, god bless them, generously provided us sheets, water, and food. i can't say it was a completely unpleasant experience. both the resort's treatment and great weather helped temper our anxiety as we waited for the tsunami to wreak havoc on our rooms and my freshly washed laundry drying inside.
like i said, it wasn't completely unpleasant, which necessarily leaves a sizable margin of space for complaints: mainly that the company was terrible. harish, in melodramatic hero mode, began commanding all resort guests away from windows and sharp objects. as you would expect, no one listened and to the joy of the crowd, the toddler of a norwegian couple yelled english insults at harish. those scandinavians are amazing: so good at english! on the other hand, the chunky sack disappeared immediately upon arriving on the hill. it was later discovered that he'd eaten most of the 3 day rations for 45 people and upon being discovered red handed, a chicken leg in one hand and mouthful of potato chips, he shamelessly garbled out the words, "it wasn't me!" the syrian nightmare... well let's just say he did little more than ball up into the fetal position and mouth what i barely understood to be "allah u akbar" until he finally fell asleep nestling an over-ripened pineapple in his moist crotch. he later informed us without a hint of irony, he'd put a jihad on the tsunami that he claimed had put a jihad on us.
the entire thing turned out to be a dud in thailand (although a few thousand people died in sumatra). we were allowed back into our rooms a few hours later but the piercing stares of the resort patrons the following morning revealed our new low standing in the eyes of everyone. we were the local pariahs... as if we didn't know our place in this world already. the syrian nightmare's shorts are still missing. if found, contact camel_jockey@mrSyria.co.sy
i realized my mistake of inviting the goons to thailand when i first met them. the bickering olympics commenced with gusto immediately at bangkok international airport. so far, harish and chunky sack are the gold medal contenders, particularly during our daily games of boggle. despite our objections to the chunky sack's innumerable use of the word, "cocktastic" (fabricated words are not allowed in boggle), the sack launched a vigorous debate against harish who acted as our representative. insults, hair pulling, or what can be termed a good ol' fashioned girl fight, ensued.
after a pair of nights in bangkok to overcome jetlag, we proceeded to head south to paradise:
we enjoyed koh lipeh's multi-colored azure waters, sand the consistency of baking powder and cheap beach-side accomodations for 5 days of swordfights and name calling. sure, there was a lot to do on the island but we mostly sat around... correction, we mostly ate massive quantities of unnecessary food and sat around during those 5 days of unbearable heat. we managed to only gain a collective 43 pounds, half of which ended up on harish:
in spite of being in paradise, we still managed to compromise as much of the natural serenity as humanly possible. when you have ass-clowns such as my california companions, it's not a matter of "if" but rather, a matter of "when." on one particular day, the three unshaven scum, proceeded to bound around on each other to the disgust of the local thai inhabitants and vacationers alike:
the syrian nightmare had fallen ill with an unknown disease and spent most of his time on the toilet, not producing diarrhea necessarily, but instead scrutinizing in painful detail, his bloody stool with his primative stone tools.
sure, i'm ashamed to be with these typical american package tourists. their loud mouths continuously bother our mostly european (tree-hugging) neighbors, perpetuating a stereotype the majority of backpacking americans do not deserve (e.g. the jerk). but when each day ends like this:
it's difficult to avoid reseting your tolerance levels for another long day of complaints and insults.
so far, harish leads the pack on the odds of becoming a filthy sex tourist as he hasn't touched a girl since the Nehru administration. there's an off chance the prostitute may even be female.