Pattaya, 31 Jan. 2013.
This Mao to the max elderly beach girl trying hard to attach herself to me is not doing much merit to the turbulence of my tormented soul, and if Nong arrives it will most definitely add oil on already troubled waters, neither does it help me in trying to explain the state of Nong's room down in Jomtien to my mate Paul, way too many mental and physical distractions here!!!
Yeah, that chaotic room belonging to Miss Superboob who right now, this being just past 23.00 h., is probably preparing herself for a little social visit to Moi truely, taking a hot shower after ten exhaustive hours of cooking in that restaurant of hers, thinking all day what sort of erotic actions she has in mind for the after work hours and me thinking all day how to avoid them, maybe move to some Muslim country, become a Shi' ite fanatic flogging myself with the cat-o'-nine-tails while dragging my tired and bloody body through the streets of some backward dictator ruled Muslim society...these days of "rape" by Miss Superboob should really come to an premature end but she wants to hear none of it...
Could well be another remarkable Tour De Force is ahead of me with the majic Mhekong glasses never quite going dry, quick on the refill and even quicker on the undressing department, easy tip money evaporating faster as I can spend my own dough and that is saying something...
Wonder where tonight's little party is gonna take place, down at her place where clothes shriek at me from all corners, plastic bags full with vegetables, meat and eggs all in various states of decay and ready for the garbage belt but in reality adding to the already hopelessly lived-out state of her room, dresses, trousers, and an enormous collection of bikinis, short skirts draped over doors and bookcases, that huge fish tank that holds five massive gold fish that she feeds Mhekong too every night just for Sanuk purposses and makes me wonder how long it will take for these watery inhabitants of her junkie room to float belly-up in the not too far away future...
Somehow I manage to get it all across to Paul despite this lived-out Hot Momma still running the risk of a getting-the-shit-kicked-out-of-you-by-the-jealous-competition, maybe another cold Chang before Nong's untimely arrival...
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Nong's hatred for the city's finest
Pattaya, 30 Jan. 2013.
Considering Nong's obsession to play the game of mouse and cat with the local constabulary, like for example riding her scooter around Pattaya with Pas De Helmet just to piss of the darned Thamruat, I am not all that pleased with Mister Fat Pig in his official brownies stumbling around this beach side restaurant drunk as the proverbial skunk.
At any given time the average cop in in Thailand can be a serious threat to a Farang' peace of mind, especially so here in Farang heaven where the local pigs carry big pistols strapped to their waist - the bigger the better, probably seen in a Clint Eastwood' Dirty Harry movie - and walkie-talkies that always seem to blare the latest Farang caused mishap into the world.
With this particular piece of law enforcement shame waving any of the aforementioned items around with abandoned arrogance and drunk sef-importance - more like he owns the joint - eyeballing the dead quiet clientele for possible hard time criminals and crazy Nong doing likewise hard eyeballing this nutty Mao pig in official tight brown service uniform, my feelings of an imminent police imposed threat grow by the minute...
Maybe a timely leave of absence while the leaving is still good and possibly before things get really nasty, no time to laddle down my Tom Yam Khung, not really interested to see my ladyfriend Nong turning into a bona fide bumster of the city's finest, or in this case the city's drunkest and loudest, would definitely do no good to my already badly outstanding reputation with those still sober at Soi Police Station...
Yeah, Mister Fat Cop is really pissed off, glaring back at Nong with bloodshot eyes while deliberately putting his booted foot down on a big unlucky cockroach with considerable relish who when this morning arived had very little idea his or hers - I always find it difficult to tell the sexes apart in the cockroach clan - untimely demise was gonna be the face saving grace between Drunk Pig and Crazy Police Hating Nong...
Dragging Nong along direction outside and Farawayistan I have the mental sounds in my Farang head of a cracking of carapace, the rupture of cockroach inards, hoping against better judgement that the poor beetle, only mere seconds ago happily scurrying around a Mekka food place for the cockroach species, has made lots of merit in his short insect life and thus having loads of prospects not coming back in the next one around as a drunk Thamruat in Pattaya...
Considering Nong's obsession to play the game of mouse and cat with the local constabulary, like for example riding her scooter around Pattaya with Pas De Helmet just to piss of the darned Thamruat, I am not all that pleased with Mister Fat Pig in his official brownies stumbling around this beach side restaurant drunk as the proverbial skunk.
At any given time the average cop in in Thailand can be a serious threat to a Farang' peace of mind, especially so here in Farang heaven where the local pigs carry big pistols strapped to their waist - the bigger the better, probably seen in a Clint Eastwood' Dirty Harry movie - and walkie-talkies that always seem to blare the latest Farang caused mishap into the world.
With this particular piece of law enforcement shame waving any of the aforementioned items around with abandoned arrogance and drunk sef-importance - more like he owns the joint - eyeballing the dead quiet clientele for possible hard time criminals and crazy Nong doing likewise hard eyeballing this nutty Mao pig in official tight brown service uniform, my feelings of an imminent police imposed threat grow by the minute...
Maybe a timely leave of absence while the leaving is still good and possibly before things get really nasty, no time to laddle down my Tom Yam Khung, not really interested to see my ladyfriend Nong turning into a bona fide bumster of the city's finest, or in this case the city's drunkest and loudest, would definitely do no good to my already badly outstanding reputation with those still sober at Soi Police Station...
Yeah, Mister Fat Cop is really pissed off, glaring back at Nong with bloodshot eyes while deliberately putting his booted foot down on a big unlucky cockroach with considerable relish who when this morning arived had very little idea his or hers - I always find it difficult to tell the sexes apart in the cockroach clan - untimely demise was gonna be the face saving grace between Drunk Pig and Crazy Police Hating Nong...
Dragging Nong along direction outside and Farawayistan I have the mental sounds in my Farang head of a cracking of carapace, the rupture of cockroach inards, hoping against better judgement that the poor beetle, only mere seconds ago happily scurrying around a Mekka food place for the cockroach species, has made lots of merit in his short insect life and thus having loads of prospects not coming back in the next one around as a drunk Thamruat in Pattaya...
Monday, January 28, 2013
A game of pool with Nong
Amsterdam, 28 Jan. 2013,
I decide to concentrate my gaze on Nong's Boobs hanging braless in her tight pinkish T-shirt that reads I LOVE PATTAYA, her nipples poking through like they want part of the action, some patches of perspiration add to the erotic sight...probably a good enough place to rest my blue Farang shiners on considering this Jomtien based poolhall is a hard place with hard looking mostly local male characters, bullies by the look of it, most of them stripped to the waist because of the heat that permeats this joint. Blue tattoos covering their torsos, lizards and impressive looking dragons from the imaginary dream world of the human species, crazy Khmer script decorating their backs in long lines, the usual protecting from bad luck, maybe pneumonia, evil spirits and the Phra Phum, bullets from rivals, chunky amulets around their necks with lord buddha and more than holy monks from the Thai Buddhist world adding to the protection market of the Land of Smiles....somehow it gives me the idea that to the Thais the world must be a dangerous place to live in!!!
I have decided to go for a cheap bottle of Mhekong with soda and ice instead of the Kloster I like so much. Drinking a expensive brand of beer in a joint like might well be an invitation to get my dough appropiated by people whose specialty is appropiating hard earned Thai Baht from those Farang that are stupid enough to wave it around...
Yeah, well I would never have entered a badly lit shithole like this whose clientele probably has done more hard time in Bhangkwa Prison as I have outstanding years in hell, but when I communicated the idea to Nong that we should have a game of pool, good practice for the coming week when I have no doubt my mate Paul will want to play this game of colored balls and cues, she inmediatedly took me on the back of her scooter and dragged my Farang ass to this dump where the denizens try hard to impress me with looks that do not have my fancy, where I do my best to stay invisible, keep my Farang blue eyes glued on the best part of Nong's atonomy, that braless stuff dangling precariously in her tight pinckish T-shirt that reads I LOVE PATTAYA, remember?
I decide to concentrate my gaze on Nong's Boobs hanging braless in her tight pinkish T-shirt that reads I LOVE PATTAYA, her nipples poking through like they want part of the action, some patches of perspiration add to the erotic sight...probably a good enough place to rest my blue Farang shiners on considering this Jomtien based poolhall is a hard place with hard looking mostly local male characters, bullies by the look of it, most of them stripped to the waist because of the heat that permeats this joint. Blue tattoos covering their torsos, lizards and impressive looking dragons from the imaginary dream world of the human species, crazy Khmer script decorating their backs in long lines, the usual protecting from bad luck, maybe pneumonia, evil spirits and the Phra Phum, bullets from rivals, chunky amulets around their necks with lord buddha and more than holy monks from the Thai Buddhist world adding to the protection market of the Land of Smiles....somehow it gives me the idea that to the Thais the world must be a dangerous place to live in!!!
I have decided to go for a cheap bottle of Mhekong with soda and ice instead of the Kloster I like so much. Drinking a expensive brand of beer in a joint like might well be an invitation to get my dough appropiated by people whose specialty is appropiating hard earned Thai Baht from those Farang that are stupid enough to wave it around...
Yeah, well I would never have entered a badly lit shithole like this whose clientele probably has done more hard time in Bhangkwa Prison as I have outstanding years in hell, but when I communicated the idea to Nong that we should have a game of pool, good practice for the coming week when I have no doubt my mate Paul will want to play this game of colored balls and cues, she inmediatedly took me on the back of her scooter and dragged my Farang ass to this dump where the denizens try hard to impress me with looks that do not have my fancy, where I do my best to stay invisible, keep my Farang blue eyes glued on the best part of Nong's atonomy, that braless stuff dangling precariously in her tight pinckish T-shirt that reads I LOVE PATTAYA, remember?
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Daughter Number One In Pattaya.
Pattaya, 26 Jan. 2013,
Though greed and corruption, sex starved, big bellied Farangs of dubious characters with various nationality backgrounds but lust their main motive for making sin city Pattaya their yearly favorite hang-out place and always carrying big brown bottlesof cold Chang, Hot Mommas aplenty plying their trade with determination, are the norm in this Sodom and Gomorra version of Thai shame...
Surely not the sort of place to invite Daughter Number One to come to for a short social visit, have a meal with her number two cultural parental background, take the risk of indigestion by eating Naem Sod - uncooked sausage - served with peppers and soft peanuts, onions and shredded green mango, take a beer with to wash it all down and the taste will multiply on your tongue...
Rumour has it that Naem Sod is a major cause for intestinal parasites in the Thai kingdom but taste and Sanuk rule the mental processes of most Thai so one can be sure this particular little nasty risk will be overlooked...Yam Woon Sen, the Isan salad Som Tam which is hot and spicy and probably will kill off allthese aforementioned parasites anyway, Yam Pla Duk Foo will most likely be included on the dinner table with Joy, Daughter number one as well...
By the time this overindulgence of food intake will be over and with it Woon Sen, we will probably have a walk down the boulevard though Daughter number One is not all that overjoyed by the sight of countless Hot Mommas plying their infamous trade though fully aware that we all have to go our deperate destinies...
Still, first of all she has to get her feet back on Terra Firma after her two hour bus trip from Krung Thep, I have to ban Nong from my room who has made herself at home and comfortable, send her packing her countless belongings she brough back to my Soi Sip-Ett place of residence in just a few short days of staying together- no way I want a little catfight between Daughter Number One and the new Madam of my room, just in case things turn late and I will have to let Joy stay the night...lets not forget the set of photos of Charlotte, Daughter Number Two and her half sister, maybe buy some Khao Lam - sticky rice mixed with cocunut milk and grilled in a bamboo trunk - to wet her apetite for the dinner to come...
Yaeh, lets hurry over to Ekkamai Pattaya bus station to be in time!!!
Though greed and corruption, sex starved, big bellied Farangs of dubious characters with various nationality backgrounds but lust their main motive for making sin city Pattaya their yearly favorite hang-out place and always carrying big brown bottlesof cold Chang, Hot Mommas aplenty plying their trade with determination, are the norm in this Sodom and Gomorra version of Thai shame...
Surely not the sort of place to invite Daughter Number One to come to for a short social visit, have a meal with her number two cultural parental background, take the risk of indigestion by eating Naem Sod - uncooked sausage - served with peppers and soft peanuts, onions and shredded green mango, take a beer with to wash it all down and the taste will multiply on your tongue...
Rumour has it that Naem Sod is a major cause for intestinal parasites in the Thai kingdom but taste and Sanuk rule the mental processes of most Thai so one can be sure this particular little nasty risk will be overlooked...Yam Woon Sen, the Isan salad Som Tam which is hot and spicy and probably will kill off allthese aforementioned parasites anyway, Yam Pla Duk Foo will most likely be included on the dinner table with Joy, Daughter number one as well...
By the time this overindulgence of food intake will be over and with it Woon Sen, we will probably have a walk down the boulevard though Daughter number One is not all that overjoyed by the sight of countless Hot Mommas plying their infamous trade though fully aware that we all have to go our deperate destinies...
Still, first of all she has to get her feet back on Terra Firma after her two hour bus trip from Krung Thep, I have to ban Nong from my room who has made herself at home and comfortable, send her packing her countless belongings she brough back to my Soi Sip-Ett place of residence in just a few short days of staying together- no way I want a little catfight between Daughter Number One and the new Madam of my room, just in case things turn late and I will have to let Joy stay the night...lets not forget the set of photos of Charlotte, Daughter Number Two and her half sister, maybe buy some Khao Lam - sticky rice mixed with cocunut milk and grilled in a bamboo trunk - to wet her apetite for the dinner to come...
Yaeh, lets hurry over to Ekkamai Pattaya bus station to be in time!!!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Nong from last year
Amsterdam, 24 Jan. 2013,
As is not all that unusual I spend most of my first few days in Pattaya reacqainting myself with old friends, renewing the the physical contact with former lovers from last year, or many years in the antiquity for that matter, walking down the boulevard after my Apex budget breakfast and being approached by those local Hot Mommas, the notorious clan of the Isan females that have haunted this particular busy walkway streching along a dirty beach where masseuses pommel overweight sunburned Farang flesh, for eternity...
Nong is such an old contact from last year, a cook in a restaurant but spending most of her working hours thinking about willing Farang men who can satisfy her enormous appetite for sex during the after hours, phoning me repeatedly once these dreary working hours are over to put her aroused body to the test, make her dreams of the day time become reality at night, waiting for me in front of the Seven/11 conveniently close to my new Star place of residence...
Not wanting me to buy beer but instead insisting she is the one to pay, distancing herself this way from her haunting Isan sisters on the beach, no Nong, Song, Saam or maybe Haa red ones here in exchange for a shorttime or allnighter...
In the dreaded afternoon after, the day after the passionate night that I hate so much, totally incapable of handling all the emotions that come with it, we find ourselves back next door at the Noi restaurant for a belated but highly necessary breaky number one to restored spent energy, getting joined by my friend Mister Porn, a nick that suits him well considering his unsattible thirst for sex and all that comes with it....
Nong makes it Pas De Secret to Mister Porn that she has suitable needs of lust, telling him repeatedly that we are only friends, the lust in her dark Asian shiners a dead give-away to her borderless interest in my friend...well, what are friends for, after all...
As is not all that unusual I spend most of my first few days in Pattaya reacqainting myself with old friends, renewing the the physical contact with former lovers from last year, or many years in the antiquity for that matter, walking down the boulevard after my Apex budget breakfast and being approached by those local Hot Mommas, the notorious clan of the Isan females that have haunted this particular busy walkway streching along a dirty beach where masseuses pommel overweight sunburned Farang flesh, for eternity...
Nong is such an old contact from last year, a cook in a restaurant but spending most of her working hours thinking about willing Farang men who can satisfy her enormous appetite for sex during the after hours, phoning me repeatedly once these dreary working hours are over to put her aroused body to the test, make her dreams of the day time become reality at night, waiting for me in front of the Seven/11 conveniently close to my new Star place of residence...
Not wanting me to buy beer but instead insisting she is the one to pay, distancing herself this way from her haunting Isan sisters on the beach, no Nong, Song, Saam or maybe Haa red ones here in exchange for a shorttime or allnighter...
In the dreaded afternoon after, the day after the passionate night that I hate so much, totally incapable of handling all the emotions that come with it, we find ourselves back next door at the Noi restaurant for a belated but highly necessary breaky number one to restored spent energy, getting joined by my friend Mister Porn, a nick that suits him well considering his unsattible thirst for sex and all that comes with it....
Nong makes it Pas De Secret to Mister Porn that she has suitable needs of lust, telling him repeatedly that we are only friends, the lust in her dark Asian shiners a dead give-away to her borderless interest in my friend...well, what are friends for, after all...
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
The Mhe Baan lady from last year
Pattaya, 23 Jan. 2013.
I haven't been forgotten by the clan of Mhe Baan ladies of the New Star guest house where I normally take up residence when I stay in Farang male friendly Pattaya, despite the little Number One Adventure I had with one of them last year, the very one the handyman of the dumphouse place claimed to be his wife though though the expression " wife" can have many meanings as I have ample experience even before this nasty little misunderstanding...could well be she was his Mia Noi - his second wife you know - or maybe he just fancied her and was trying to scare off the Farang competition who due to a regular fat wallet had much better potential luck in the get into the Mhe Baan lady's pants, did feel a bit like she was trying hard to get into my pants instead but then there is nothing new to that as I have ample experience, remember?
I seem to remember I send him walking as far away from my door as humanly possible though staying polite and allowing him some face by not telling Mister Jealous Handyman who had horns growing out of his head where he could and in which paticular part of his Mia Noi's atonomy - or whatever she was to him - he could find the fluid evidence...
Apparently the Man With The Horns is fired and Miss Knocky Knocky On My Door is back at her old tricks and in the year passed has been promoted to the third floor, good thing I am staying on the fifth floor...still that doesn't seem to stop her from leaving her plastic bags with food and drinks, her private clothes she changes into from her New Star provided cleaning lady's uniform after her shift is over, maybe a quick kiss and cuddling when I walk down the stairs in the morning passing Number Three Floor and secretly hoping she will be busy and I can get down without being noticed, or maybe my mental processes responsible for my feelings of want and desire are the other way around, not really sure yet in that department...
I haven't been forgotten by the clan of Mhe Baan ladies of the New Star guest house where I normally take up residence when I stay in Farang male friendly Pattaya, despite the little Number One Adventure I had with one of them last year, the very one the handyman of the dumphouse place claimed to be his wife though though the expression " wife" can have many meanings as I have ample experience even before this nasty little misunderstanding...could well be she was his Mia Noi - his second wife you know - or maybe he just fancied her and was trying to scare off the Farang competition who due to a regular fat wallet had much better potential luck in the get into the Mhe Baan lady's pants, did feel a bit like she was trying hard to get into my pants instead but then there is nothing new to that as I have ample experience, remember?
I seem to remember I send him walking as far away from my door as humanly possible though staying polite and allowing him some face by not telling Mister Jealous Handyman who had horns growing out of his head where he could and in which paticular part of his Mia Noi's atonomy - or whatever she was to him - he could find the fluid evidence...
Apparently the Man With The Horns is fired and Miss Knocky Knocky On My Door is back at her old tricks and in the year passed has been promoted to the third floor, good thing I am staying on the fifth floor...still that doesn't seem to stop her from leaving her plastic bags with food and drinks, her private clothes she changes into from her New Star provided cleaning lady's uniform after her shift is over, maybe a quick kiss and cuddling when I walk down the stairs in the morning passing Number Three Floor and secretly hoping she will be busy and I can get down without being noticed, or maybe my mental processes responsible for my feelings of want and desire are the other way around, not really sure yet in that department...
Monday, January 21, 2013
A Thai lady on the plane
Pattaya, 22 Jan. 2013.
A big beaming smile she throws me but disappointments clearly showing in her Asian shiners whens she realises she has got the seat behind me instead of that cherished chair next to me. Well, shit happenes but I feel pleased in the knowledge I made some sort of impression on her when I was drawing her face while waiting for boarding...
Looking up again mere minutes later but not to some Asian beauty with a beaming smile despite her obvious disappointment, no, two Farang males wanting to know if I would mind taking the seat in the row behind me because they lke to sit together for the twelve hour flight to Suvarnibhumi Airport in still alive but barely King Bhumipol's mysterious Asian kingdom...
looking over the seat at her small waving hand, enjoyment replace for disappointment clearly showing in her dark eyes...a whole night of chatting in a strange mix of Norwegian, Thai and English with this joyfull young lady who wears a gold wedding ring, gold neck lace and gold expessive looking watch on her arm, being dragged through " Thai passport only " at Suvarnibhumi airport upon arrival, poking my nose mentally at the long queue of Farangs though my ribs still slightly hurting from the occasional elbow push - pay attention Mister Farang Hans hehehe - she gave me back aboard the China Air flight whenever I my eye lids sagged during her one-sided non-stop babble...
Only being back on the Pattaya bus listening to my friend Paul who picked me up, do I realice I forgot to ask for her phone number...shit three times in a row but then she WAS married and Thailand is FULL with adorable ladies after all...
A big beaming smile she throws me but disappointments clearly showing in her Asian shiners whens she realises she has got the seat behind me instead of that cherished chair next to me. Well, shit happenes but I feel pleased in the knowledge I made some sort of impression on her when I was drawing her face while waiting for boarding...
Looking up again mere minutes later but not to some Asian beauty with a beaming smile despite her obvious disappointment, no, two Farang males wanting to know if I would mind taking the seat in the row behind me because they lke to sit together for the twelve hour flight to Suvarnibhumi Airport in still alive but barely King Bhumipol's mysterious Asian kingdom...
looking over the seat at her small waving hand, enjoyment replace for disappointment clearly showing in her dark eyes...a whole night of chatting in a strange mix of Norwegian, Thai and English with this joyfull young lady who wears a gold wedding ring, gold neck lace and gold expessive looking watch on her arm, being dragged through " Thai passport only " at Suvarnibhumi airport upon arrival, poking my nose mentally at the long queue of Farangs though my ribs still slightly hurting from the occasional elbow push - pay attention Mister Farang Hans hehehe - she gave me back aboard the China Air flight whenever I my eye lids sagged during her one-sided non-stop babble...
Only being back on the Pattaya bus listening to my friend Paul who picked me up, do I realice I forgot to ask for her phone number...shit three times in a row but then she WAS married and Thailand is FULL with adorable ladies after all...
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Last minute preparations and new bue jeans
Last minute preparation,
There we go again, steaming cup of Java to wake up in freezing Amsterdam and getting ready to eave good old Mokum, leaving behind that darned cold I have come to hate so much....
Money and passport in my money bag strapped to my waist underneath a clean pair of underwear, sone-opne wants to get their hands on that stuff I have got to notice it, the papery necessaries of this trip being so close to my most private parts...
A new pair of jeans courtesy of Rob, probably stolen but whatever, the bloke has got his next ten Euro - on top of the twenty I normally allow him to borrow each month - a new pair of blue jeans he claimed he got from his Mom who had Pas De Temp to come to Amsterdam to bring to D'Argent on top of his cherished Uitkering - his dole you know - Lets hope he will no forget my thirty doomed Euro two months from now but thanks anyway for the blue jeans wherever you got them from, price tag still attasched...
Better would have been my dough had gotten to these poor creatures of the pattaya nightlife, the Isan Hot mommas as I usually refer to them, after all ten doomed Euro are still worth something in far away Thailand...
Yeah, 13.30 h this afternoon I will be on my way to Farawayistan, where the climate is pleasant, the beer cold to the touch, the ladies beautifull and kind and the food palatable tp put it mildly, no more crappers from the Amsterdam streets and their constant pestering me for money...and lets no forget to remove that stupid price tag from my new blue jeans before passing through Schiphol Airport passport control.
There we go again, steaming cup of Java to wake up in freezing Amsterdam and getting ready to eave good old Mokum, leaving behind that darned cold I have come to hate so much....
Money and passport in my money bag strapped to my waist underneath a clean pair of underwear, sone-opne wants to get their hands on that stuff I have got to notice it, the papery necessaries of this trip being so close to my most private parts...
A new pair of jeans courtesy of Rob, probably stolen but whatever, the bloke has got his next ten Euro - on top of the twenty I normally allow him to borrow each month - a new pair of blue jeans he claimed he got from his Mom who had Pas De Temp to come to Amsterdam to bring to D'Argent on top of his cherished Uitkering - his dole you know - Lets hope he will no forget my thirty doomed Euro two months from now but thanks anyway for the blue jeans wherever you got them from, price tag still attasched...
Better would have been my dough had gotten to these poor creatures of the pattaya nightlife, the Isan Hot mommas as I usually refer to them, after all ten doomed Euro are still worth something in far away Thailand...
Yeah, 13.30 h this afternoon I will be on my way to Farawayistan, where the climate is pleasant, the beer cold to the touch, the ladies beautifull and kind and the food palatable tp put it mildly, no more crappers from the Amsterdam streets and their constant pestering me for money...and lets no forget to remove that stupid price tag from my new blue jeans before passing through Schiphol Airport passport control.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
A rare understanding of the male hormonic cycle
Amsterdam,
Tooth ache to the extreme, days of eating with dental pain, not the easiest way of keeping myself busy with my artwork, my reading and linguistic self endicted study programs in these days of (supposedly) rest and tranquility though problemic misfortune is a part of my life in times of non-employment...
Trying hard to create order in a house of disorder, trying hard to create unchaos in a existence full of chaos, hard enough to understand the very reasons behind the will to keep on going were the question of what it is all about is an enigma to begin with...
Thailand is getting real close now, the little attractions for a confirmed male bachelor life style at a distance of twelve hours comfortable flying time a simple understanding to the endurement of my constant pains and tribulations here in good old Mokum - or so one might think...a tooth extraction tomorrow and the horror feelings that come with it (after all who out there likes a little social visit to the city's most feared, yes, the dentist) just a little bit easier to put up with knowing one hundert percent fully well it is Pas of what I want to plaque me the next two months in the Land Of Smiles...
Wanna feel healthy to the max, be able to have great meals with ladies of the infamous Pattaya nightlife, Cafe Latte in some nice beachside bar in the afternoon with Farang friends or Hot Momma aquiatances, a few cold Chang beer late at night at the former so-called Dutch bench, conveniently located opposite the Seven/Eleven...
Lets get that tooth out tomorrow and do more some self understanding here...after all self understanding is rare in the human species and comprehending the male understanding of the male hormonic cycle probably even worse...
As for those that follow these chaotic self analysing psycho babble stories, I hope seriously you can make sense out ot them!!!
Tooth ache to the extreme, days of eating with dental pain, not the easiest way of keeping myself busy with my artwork, my reading and linguistic self endicted study programs in these days of (supposedly) rest and tranquility though problemic misfortune is a part of my life in times of non-employment...
Trying hard to create order in a house of disorder, trying hard to create unchaos in a existence full of chaos, hard enough to understand the very reasons behind the will to keep on going were the question of what it is all about is an enigma to begin with...
Thailand is getting real close now, the little attractions for a confirmed male bachelor life style at a distance of twelve hours comfortable flying time a simple understanding to the endurement of my constant pains and tribulations here in good old Mokum - or so one might think...a tooth extraction tomorrow and the horror feelings that come with it (after all who out there likes a little social visit to the city's most feared, yes, the dentist) just a little bit easier to put up with knowing one hundert percent fully well it is Pas of what I want to plaque me the next two months in the Land Of Smiles...
Wanna feel healthy to the max, be able to have great meals with ladies of the infamous Pattaya nightlife, Cafe Latte in some nice beachside bar in the afternoon with Farang friends or Hot Momma aquiatances, a few cold Chang beer late at night at the former so-called Dutch bench, conveniently located opposite the Seven/Eleven...
Lets get that tooth out tomorrow and do more some self understanding here...after all self understanding is rare in the human species and comprehending the male understanding of the male hormonic cycle probably even worse...
As for those that follow these chaotic self analysing psycho babble stories, I hope seriously you can make sense out ot them!!!
Nude lady on a dating site
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Monday, January 7, 2013
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Friday, January 4, 2013
Regret is unprofessional.
Amsterdam, 04 Jan. 2013.
Months in the future I might come to regret this, probably'll become evident that I have become depressed about this, unhappy most likely, living a life I will find utterly unfullfilling....After all last night was a close one, twenty-five years of platonic friendship with Cesca nearly down the proverbial drain, thanks to the bottle of Vino Tinto my neighbors upstairs gave me as a belated X-mas gift, with Cesca smattered on alcohol, a vice she hardly ever indulces in, posing for me in the nude as she has done countless times but this time with the drinking roles reversed....
But no I played the professional gentleman, not taking care of the opportunity of her physical needs, guiding her to my bed where she could sleep off the ingested amounts of King Alcohol's poison while I myself and me occupied the couch in my front room...
Waking up to a naked Cesca in front of the window watching the world go by, her nude behind reminding me of what could have been...but regret is unprofessional in the life of a gentleman bachelor, better I get up and make her coffee, give her a clean towel for the morning shower as the perfect host should do...
Nothing wrong making a quick sketch of her though...
Months in the future I might come to regret this, probably'll become evident that I have become depressed about this, unhappy most likely, living a life I will find utterly unfullfilling....After all last night was a close one, twenty-five years of platonic friendship with Cesca nearly down the proverbial drain, thanks to the bottle of Vino Tinto my neighbors upstairs gave me as a belated X-mas gift, with Cesca smattered on alcohol, a vice she hardly ever indulces in, posing for me in the nude as she has done countless times but this time with the drinking roles reversed....
But no I played the professional gentleman, not taking care of the opportunity of her physical needs, guiding her to my bed where she could sleep off the ingested amounts of King Alcohol's poison while I myself and me occupied the couch in my front room...
Waking up to a naked Cesca in front of the window watching the world go by, her nude behind reminding me of what could have been...but regret is unprofessional in the life of a gentleman bachelor, better I get up and make her coffee, give her a clean towel for the morning shower as the perfect host should do...
Nothing wrong making a quick sketch of her though...
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Feeling number one good.
Amsterdam, 03 Jan. 2013,
I am not on the run today, nor do a experience the obnoxious feeling of the absence of friends, doesn't feel at all like paranoia can set in a t any given moment, all of a sudden the tongue of the Gods sounds once more familiar inside that Gringo - or was it Mzungu, Farang or whatever - skull of mine, the endless narative churning my brainscell inside out wether it is about dinosaurs, nazis or canibals, bankers in expensive Armani suits that annoy me beyond believe with their money grapping obsession, or world politics...
It is all gone today while I freak around with my paint, my number one good ladyfriend from twenty-five years in the making demure but comfortable in my house, sorting through my silver rings, a left-over from my market days, enjoying each other company though not talking much...
Seventy doomed Euro worth of rings disappear in her green shoulder bag and I decide I will take her downtown for dinner at my number one restaurant the Kam Yin in the Warmoestr....eating out tonite with my number one ladyfriend at my number one restaurant feeling number one good.
Thanks for all these years of number one friendship, Cesca!!! .
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
The petting zoo
If you happen to be in the neighborhood on wednesday - or thursday morning, feel free to come in for a look.
Oh yeah, and the text is Dutch for Merry X-mas and happy New Year
A twisted sense of obligation?
Amsterdam, 01 Jan. 2013.
Is it a twisted sense of obligation that send me to bed way before the 12.00 O'clock New Year's celebration in my beloved mokum last night, never mind that at this time of year the city has as always totally lost it's appeal to me, grey clouded overcast skies and shower after shower of heavenly piss forcing me indoors, not so patiently waiting for my next stay in King Bhumipol's Asian realm - under three weeks to wait, though -, still the new year's clebrations in this place are big fun...
But no, back to this twisted sense of obligation that send me to back early last night despite the massive aforementioned celebrations downtown, plenty of tourist p*ssy to pick up for a New Year's bit of the Adult's only game, a tourist lady on the back of my bike to my Westerpark located apartment that at this boring time of year is covered, walls and floor alike, with my nutty artwork, acrylic portraits on free Metro supplied newspaper pages, the worldwide crises has to be heeded with respect or else...Pas D'argent for drawing paper these days though an expensive return ticket to the Land of the Thais is still affordable for my meagre wallet...
But no, back that twisted sense of obligation instead of this nutcase psycho blogging babble, trying as always to make sense of that which is senseless to begin with, back to early nights and getting up early in a dark Dutch capital, brush my teeth and drag my still half asleep body downstairs to my waiting bicycle, prepare myself mentally for another New Year's day of hard work at the petting zoo, the animals need fodder and loving care, someone to clean their stables, shovel horse manure and goat shit, cow dung and cat shit....
Why didn't I say no to the manager who herself probably was enjoying the lillte pleasures of the New Year's celebrations right outside her front door...maybe I don't begrudge her her bit of fun but sitll, I seriously suffer from a twisted sense of obligation I fear...
Is it a twisted sense of obligation that send me to bed way before the 12.00 O'clock New Year's celebration in my beloved mokum last night, never mind that at this time of year the city has as always totally lost it's appeal to me, grey clouded overcast skies and shower after shower of heavenly piss forcing me indoors, not so patiently waiting for my next stay in King Bhumipol's Asian realm - under three weeks to wait, though -, still the new year's clebrations in this place are big fun...
But no, back to this twisted sense of obligation that send me to back early last night despite the massive aforementioned celebrations downtown, plenty of tourist p*ssy to pick up for a New Year's bit of the Adult's only game, a tourist lady on the back of my bike to my Westerpark located apartment that at this boring time of year is covered, walls and floor alike, with my nutty artwork, acrylic portraits on free Metro supplied newspaper pages, the worldwide crises has to be heeded with respect or else...Pas D'argent for drawing paper these days though an expensive return ticket to the Land of the Thais is still affordable for my meagre wallet...
But no, back that twisted sense of obligation instead of this nutcase psycho blogging babble, trying as always to make sense of that which is senseless to begin with, back to early nights and getting up early in a dark Dutch capital, brush my teeth and drag my still half asleep body downstairs to my waiting bicycle, prepare myself mentally for another New Year's day of hard work at the petting zoo, the animals need fodder and loving care, someone to clean their stables, shovel horse manure and goat shit, cow dung and cat shit....
Why didn't I say no to the manager who herself probably was enjoying the lillte pleasures of the New Year's celebrations right outside her front door...maybe I don't begrudge her her bit of fun but sitll, I seriously suffer from a twisted sense of obligation I fear...
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