"my. (whapwhapwhap!) culo. (whap!) really. (whap!) can't. (whap!) (whap!) (whap!) handle. mu(whap!) ch. (whap!) (WH-thump) more. (whap!) of. (whap!) this."
i grimaced as my ass was again angrily beaten by the "padded" seat below. "why, why.. . did i choose this seat.." as i tried to drift off to sleep, only nightmares.
spectral snarling mustachioed leathermen were spanking me from another dimension. howard stern's huge smiling face next to a womans shuddering pink rearend suddenly burst into mind. i shook my head and opened my eyes, trying to clear the image of the episode where he paddled cosmetic surgery addicts and threw
mayo covered slices of baloney at their asses. after some thinking, i realized my decision to sit in the FRONT of the bus, right above the front wheels, where the suspension's dampening was weakest, was based on a conversation with "..those 2 freeking neohippy girls in Hanoi ..." with the patchwork pants, the bandanas, garish finger baubles, the culturally schizophrenic assortment of ethnic clothing, the talismans, the toe rings. i could hear julie, the one wearing the Eritrean shell
that warded off negative energy and flying vermin saying to me: "oh - get a seat in the the front- you can see the whole countryside!" undoubtably, they had been harboring a secret resentment of me. i had fallen into their trap. i had to admit - it was brilliant.
31.5.03
29.5.03
they had given up on teaching me completely.
i was left to watch as becca attempted to play a card game described only as "GAME EVERYONE VIETNAM PLAY ALWAYS". i slowly pulled my banana shake though a bendy straw, watching the game develop in ways completely beyond my comprehension, trying to look impressed by the strategy of the guy sitting next to me who was letting me watch him play in another vain attempt to teach me.
one hour of careful but apparently idiotic observation yielded only that:
a: 2s are really really fucking good
b: you must slap your cards down really hard each round.
c: slap down 2s really really hard; this is related to their really really goodness
owner: "YOUR WIFE PLAYS GOOD"
c: "my..uh.. wife.. shes very smart"
i was nodding like an idiot. i played with the bendy straw - straining my tiny brain trying to make a perfect right angle.
owner's brother:"YOUR WIFE PLAYS VERY GOOD!!"
c:"yes, she.." i trailed off as becca continued to surprise the guys with her card skills. i on the other hand, was absorded with the straw, imagining a big plastic elephant attached to the leetle bendy trunk.
my hand had been since commandeered by the anxious little brother of the owner of the no-name little cafe we were sitting in in Nha Trang, Vietnam. it sat on a corner near the beach, and was noticibly lacking in white foreigners. it did have white plastic tables, flickering flourescent lights, and a ripped up white awning that was failing to protect us from the downpour.
"NONONO -HOW MANY TIME I TELL YOU, YOU DON'T, YOU NOT..RRRR"
apparently, the game was picking up, and becca was letting her coach down. we had been joined by an attractive young prostitute with blue nail polish and improbably green eyes. she was committed to helping becca between her casual "hi - would you like some company?" solicitations of nearby diners.
my hand had now been passed to an older guy, with a wispy goatee, glazed eyes, and incredibly long & well kept fingernails. like pale skin on women, on men these were a sign of status - indicating that one was not a laborer. this guy, apparently, made a living at cards.
oop- powers going - to be continued -c
i was left to watch as becca attempted to play a card game described only as "GAME EVERYONE VIETNAM PLAY ALWAYS". i slowly pulled my banana shake though a bendy straw, watching the game develop in ways completely beyond my comprehension, trying to look impressed by the strategy of the guy sitting next to me who was letting me watch him play in another vain attempt to teach me.
one hour of careful but apparently idiotic observation yielded only that:
a: 2s are really really fucking good
b: you must slap your cards down really hard each round.
c: slap down 2s really really hard; this is related to their really really goodness
owner: "YOUR WIFE PLAYS GOOD"
c: "my..uh.. wife.. shes very smart"
i was nodding like an idiot. i played with the bendy straw - straining my tiny brain trying to make a perfect right angle.
owner's brother:"YOUR WIFE PLAYS VERY GOOD!!"
c:"yes, she.." i trailed off as becca continued to surprise the guys with her card skills. i on the other hand, was absorded with the straw, imagining a big plastic elephant attached to the leetle bendy trunk.
my hand had been since commandeered by the anxious little brother of the owner of the no-name little cafe we were sitting in in Nha Trang, Vietnam. it sat on a corner near the beach, and was noticibly lacking in white foreigners. it did have white plastic tables, flickering flourescent lights, and a ripped up white awning that was failing to protect us from the downpour.
"NONONO -HOW MANY TIME I TELL YOU, YOU DON'T, YOU NOT..RRRR"
apparently, the game was picking up, and becca was letting her coach down. we had been joined by an attractive young prostitute with blue nail polish and improbably green eyes. she was committed to helping becca between her casual "hi - would you like some company?" solicitations of nearby diners.
my hand had now been passed to an older guy, with a wispy goatee, glazed eyes, and incredibly long & well kept fingernails. like pale skin on women, on men these were a sign of status - indicating that one was not a laborer. this guy, apparently, made a living at cards.
oop- powers going - to be continued -c
dear entire internet:
owing to the fact that..
I'VE BEEN SITTING IN FUCKING PARADISE WITH BETTER THINGS TO DO..
with mekong whiskey and sour curry on my breath:
i ain't updated in a long time.
but -
its all been going into my handheld.
handheld journal. paper. god.
also -
owing to the fact that its threatening to rain today tho, and my motobike isnt safe while sitting still, much less safe in the rain on a small rural Thai island steered by a grinning drunk idiot, ill transcibe a couple episodes. i think. if the power doesn't cut out.
owing to the fact that..
I'VE BEEN SITTING IN FUCKING PARADISE WITH BETTER THINGS TO DO..
with mekong whiskey and sour curry on my breath:
i ain't updated in a long time.
but -
its all been going into my handheld.
handheld journal. paper. god.
also -
owing to the fact that its threatening to rain today tho, and my motobike isnt safe while sitting still, much less safe in the rain on a small rural Thai island steered by a grinning drunk idiot, ill transcibe a couple episodes. i think. if the power doesn't cut out.
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