i've lost all recollection of the meaning of dates and days. as of the perhentian islands, i've begun down a shame spiral of beach locales that'll end only when i'm done seeing the philippines 7000+ islands. and whatever weight (ill-gotten or otherwise) i've lost from sickness will reappear 4-fold from laying lazily in hammocks for the next 6 months or until death, whichever comes first. go to a filipino beach and if someone's active and playfully frolicking in the water, that isn't me. find a green hammock under the inconceivable strain of a stereotypically obese american and you've found your fat-bastard (or more politically correctly phrased, fat man of dubious lineage).

i'd declared the summer of 2003, "the summer of shirtlessness." it was an extremely hard task to achieve but i now go out on a limb and declare the second half of 2005, "the half-year of shirtlessness and sloth." i'll nipple everyone into achieving world peace even if it means a higher risk of melanoma and a greater incidence of women turning lesbian. upon my death, i simply wanna be known as the most shirtless guy in history. indigenous "backward" tribes may have a head start but those little gnomes only live on average until they're 23. when future generations remember my name, i want them to wistfully utter, "wow, that guy sure was shirtless!" wiping a tear-drop from their watery eyes.

a bit more unachievable perhaps but i'll include the footnote of 2005 being the year that i touch a girl as i'm unintentionally working on a record for most consecutive years without the natural engorgement induced by a live 3rd party. lamentably, both my 40gb laptop or daily self-flagellation doesn't count.

what date is it anyway?

Posted by thejerk at 05:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

11 days spent on the perhentian islands on the east coast of malaysia. like a bizarro world, here on perhentian, the local malaysian man gets plenty of caucasian (mostly naive scandinavian) action. these beach boys lack anything resembling substance proving a scathing indictment on the susceptibility of foolish western women that fall prey for the "hey, where from?" malaysian pickup line. clumsy intercourse ensues.

figure 1. full moon party that partially shows the virile malaysian playa. (behind the camera, a playa hatin' celibate - by force, not choice)

figure 2. my beach home for nearly 2 weeks attempting to gain back some girth & mirth that food poisoning robbed from me.

while on the island in a foul mood from nearly a month of sickness, i was nursed back into society by a pair of guardian angels sent by lucifer himself:

figure 3. farida, a devout muslim, manager at my hotel casts islamic spells to cure me of my antisocial sickness. she clearly didn't know i was an american infidel otherwise her cures would've certainly turned into screams of jihad.

figure 4. brits, natalie and sally. between ritualistic beatings and correcting my pidgeon english, sally forced caustic solvents down my throat (bringing back a particularly painful reminder of kindergarten recess) in order to induce the revival of my enthusiasm for travel. the beatings and throat lubrication helped only to further my desires to commune only with nature and rid the world of southern english nihilists.

Posted by thejerk at 05:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

by popular request, i bring you slobbering sacks of hormones another collage of perversion from my time on the perhentian islands. for the lady viewers (read: joann stanford), i included a guy in the collage this time. i'm not really sure what a girl wants to see so i just snapped a picture of any shirtless dude. i'm sure you women will be disappointed, perhaps as much as i was.

and don't thank me, thank the geniuses that developed 20x optical zoom. relax, relax out there. i love those geniuses too, but unlike you, i love them in that reserved way a staunchly heterosexual man loves a lab-coat clad Canon electronics engineer. in short, i say this with every ounce of my manly heterosexuality: they're good people.

Posted by thejerk at 05:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

it took 2 mcdonald's value meals and 4 pizza hut pepperoni pan 'zas to heal me. and with a flush of the toilet, i'm better than ever - physically at least. i haven't had a better bowel movement since i ate that unbelievably spicy vindaloo curry in london that allowed me to leave a memorable mark on one of historic london's unfortunate toilets. with every meal i eat in a foreign land, factoring in my love for the spicy foods, i leave myself open to being burned twice. now i can pinpoint the original sickness from one of my only 2 meals i ate in thailand: ice coffee or pad see ewe. i treat them both so well and that's how they pay me back. i'm not sure where my rambling is going so i'll just cut it off right now but for those that had claims on my property when i'm dead, you'll have to continue waiting.

some figures
- total time sick: 24 days
- total doodies in 24 days: 2 (1 very early in the sickness and 1 for the cure)
- average meals eaten per day in 24 days: 1/2 (little input, no output)
- weight in early June: 64 kg (140.8 lbs)

and ignorant granola-eating types bag fast food. it's now scientifically proven that mcdonald's and pizza hut cures 24 day food poisoning. all you anti-globalization people can kiss my swollen buttocks.

(further tests to reduce persistent man-boobs have so far proven inconclusive)

Posted by thejerk at 05:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm holed up in a city called Kota Bharu, on the mainland just across from the islands i'm supposed to be enjoying were it not for my mystery disease.

After 2 weeks of persistent misery, i finally broke down and went grudgingly to the hospital. they did the usual barrage of blood tests and to my disappointment, i don't have either dengue fever or typhoid. to have one of those would've been a welcome relief to the unknown sickness i've had for the past 2 weeks.

while in the hospital, i received a topical fever remedy lubed gently onto my sphincter by a muslim nurse. i haven't had a gooey finger up my bunghole since high school home economics class, which much like the muslim nurse experience, i did not dislike. i just wish she'd call me, that's all. is it wrong to wanna be loved after being sodomized?

look, i have nothing more to say unless you want me to get into detail on my daily cold sweats or sleeping in more pools of bodily excretions.

if i do make it over to perhentian islands, eventually, i'll have no internet access so you'll have to make due with a stale site until i return. them's the breaks.

pray for a swift death. i think it's the least i deserve for all my charitable works and lavish gift giving in the community.

Posted by thejerk at 11:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

i think britney spears said it best in her song, "gee whiz, i've done it again now."

in my idiotic attempt to fix thejerk.org's pulldown menus for opera compatibility, i've screwed up the site for internet explorer. i'm a talentless hack and i deserve this punishment and more. the timing is beyond perfect because tomorrow, i leave bangkok and with it, free internet and the possibility of fixing the site or at least hacking something else together. i guess my audience (both of you) will have to live with a janky site for a while. what it boils down to is, i've alienated 70% of the market (IE users) for 15% (opera users). do the trigonometry and you'll conclude beyond a reasonable doubt i have extra chromosomes.

ugh!

on a lighter note, i'm still sick and eating little to nothing. but now i no longer sweat when i lie down or for that matter, sweat when i eat (exclusively because i no longer eat, i'm not cured or anything). a change of scenery and perhaps a few remotely detonated bombs in southern thailand will wake me up as i run in a zig-zag fashion in between rebel fire.

Posted by thejerk at 04:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

is it me or are tim meadows and don cheadle the same guy?

   
(you try to tell them apart)

how dare you!? no, you're racist! no, you are! i only see the colors of a person's personality and the odd angles of misshapen penises!

Posted by thejerk at 04:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

this morning, i woke up covered in mucus, sweat and yet again, bits of corn. that's the good news. the bad news is that my testicles resemble a shriveled mix between brain coral and admiral akbar from Star Wars (see below). i can blame the humidity, the excessive crotch moistness for 4 months straight or malnutrition but i won't. i'll take it like a man... i'll blame god!

the signs of health are coming back to me so i booked my bus ticket to the thai-malaysian border, the same one that's been having all those bombs and assassinations this year. when you're as fiercely aggressive and invincible as me, you don't worry about asian muslims taking out your bus. you worry more about fending off chicks with an understated diamond encrusted walking cane or the state of super-celebrity marriages.

my next destination are a series of island hops off the east coast of Malaysia where islam calls the shots and as a result, i had to replace my two piece bikini with a modest one piece (assless) bathing suit. don't worry, it's skin colored so they'll never know the difference, especially because i was born without an ass-crack, simply a single teardrop shaped mass of flesh. i'll slowly work my way down the coast until i reach KL (short for Kuala Lumpur for those "in the know").

at this point i'm just killing time until i catch my flight in July to the Philippines and i've yet to see the egg-laying turtles of east coast Malaysia and if my memory serves me correctly, i haven't fully alienated the asian muslim community yet.

Posted by thejerk at 04:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

(who's the chunk sack?)

how do you say "mid-life crisis" in Polish? does it resemble the word for "uproot" or "flee" in any esoteric way?

after a full year and a half in southern california, the chunky sack (Polska by ethnicity) is retreating back to the bay area with his forked tail and triumvirate of inline testicles firmly between his legs. looks like he actually did something about his most recent bi-monthly mid-life crisis and decided to return to the area he was once so proud to leave. i originally helped the chunky guy move (i.e. i ate chips and instructed him which boxes to put where) from SF so i know his last words well:

"i'll never return to this hellhole."
"they can have their human feces covered streets to themselves."
"that cream colored stain was there when i got here"
"the hair growth starts in the ears, then spreads to back then ultimately buttocks."

as a gesture of good will to the lug, i'm accepting applications for a life coach. a total of 3 positions available, the other 2 who need life coaching are harish (perenially) and gaymes who is a new addition to the land of the lost. successful applicants will hold a job, maintain good personal hygiene and not much else.

honestly, i don't know what the guy's looking for, other than his first DIY back shaving kit (which i bought for him for that memorable Kwanzaa of '84. if my polio afflicted fingers could operate a camera, the picture of the sack's mom demonstrating its efficient use would have been worth at least 999 words). once he abandons his fantasy world in which he wears a pair of polish flag tights, makes out with plus-sized supermodels while saving the world from inevitable destruction, he'll realize his real life polish flag tights fit just fine and the world isn't doomed (at least until 2007 when aliens will crush our solar system as they sweep past in the wake of Haley's Coment, according to my gray robed hairless pastor who appears on cable tv. channel 483! now that's the voice of credibility isn't it?)

the biggest tragedy in the entire fiasco is that your hard working correspondent has to change his mailing address again. which means you ladies out there will need a new address to send your panties to. and Bubby, no more of those granny trunks, they're starting to effect the load bearing structures in the house.

Posted by thejerk at 02:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)