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.