Thursday, February 23, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
A lady thief in the night
Pattaya, 22 Febr. 2012.
Sweet sleep, dreams like sugar, Miss Paddie taking care of me and not a soul in the world disturbing me...well, no, being in the sweet arms of lord Morpheus' realm is not to be my destiny tonight, not with that pesistent "knock, knock, knock', softly so as not to wake the German couple sleeping in the room next door but persistently nonetheless like a only a Thai Hot Momma can with the smell of Nong, Song, Saam Daeng in her female nostrils...
I don't need the pregnant air of Thai moonshine whisky drifting through the cracks in the wooden door, to know it is that nutty red haired lady from this morning who drove me to that corrupt borderpost where I lost 1200 Baht getting my second visa arranged...no way I gonna open the door to this Miss Mau lady who obviously needs more of these red bank notes to keep that unquenchable thirst of hers satisfied...
" Hans, mister Hans, please open door, me must talk to you" rummaging around outside my 100 Baht baby room, apperently mistaking my neighbor's door...now, that could get interesting with Misses German not gonna be all that Gluecklich when she finds that red haired local drunk lady in her room with serious hooker interests in her boyfriend...
But, no, I can hear her shuffle around a bit, some sniffles and soft giggles before soft female foot steps hurry down the stairs, the snoring next door continueing, probably never aware of their nocturnal visitor...
Next morning over a cup of strong thirty Baht Nescafe I overhear them complaining to the owner, 3200 lying on their bedside table, has mysteriously disappeared, and yes, Wir Schlaffen Mit Der Tuer Geoeffnet Weil Es So Heiss Ist Waerend Der Nacht...I keep quiet trying to shut out unsuccessfully the image of Miss red Hair sleeping off somewhere 3200 Baht worth of Thai Moonshine whisky...if she survived that amount of alcohol posoin, that is!!!
Sweet sleep, dreams like sugar, Miss Paddie taking care of me and not a soul in the world disturbing me...well, no, being in the sweet arms of lord Morpheus' realm is not to be my destiny tonight, not with that pesistent "knock, knock, knock', softly so as not to wake the German couple sleeping in the room next door but persistently nonetheless like a only a Thai Hot Momma can with the smell of Nong, Song, Saam Daeng in her female nostrils...
I don't need the pregnant air of Thai moonshine whisky drifting through the cracks in the wooden door, to know it is that nutty red haired lady from this morning who drove me to that corrupt borderpost where I lost 1200 Baht getting my second visa arranged...no way I gonna open the door to this Miss Mau lady who obviously needs more of these red bank notes to keep that unquenchable thirst of hers satisfied...
" Hans, mister Hans, please open door, me must talk to you" rummaging around outside my 100 Baht baby room, apperently mistaking my neighbor's door...now, that could get interesting with Misses German not gonna be all that Gluecklich when she finds that red haired local drunk lady in her room with serious hooker interests in her boyfriend...
But, no, I can hear her shuffle around a bit, some sniffles and soft giggles before soft female foot steps hurry down the stairs, the snoring next door continueing, probably never aware of their nocturnal visitor...
Next morning over a cup of strong thirty Baht Nescafe I overhear them complaining to the owner, 3200 lying on their bedside table, has mysteriously disappeared, and yes, Wir Schlaffen Mit Der Tuer Geoeffnet Weil Es So Heiss Ist Waerend Der Nacht...I keep quiet trying to shut out unsuccessfully the image of Miss red Hair sleeping off somewhere 3200 Baht worth of Thai Moonshine whisky...if she survived that amount of alcohol posoin, that is!!!
Monday, February 20, 2012
La Vie Est Un Crime Du Jour
Pattaya, 20 Febr. 2012.
An anorexia young local woman down in the foyer of my guesthouse whose hair has been dyed scarlet red and sculpted into a hedge on top of her head, drinking whisky despite the early hour of the morning, inviting me to participate...isn't that great, having to go to Hat Yek, cross the border with sour whisky on my breath...the acid rain of reality in full swing here, I guess, though I find myself on the back of her motorbike only mere minutes later, well on the way to Hat Yek, ready to face the border corruption of one the worse in the border corruption department in this part of the world.
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Skeltering across the road at fifty plus kph, 84 kilometers on the way to total oblivion, or else, on the way to notorious border scams, 2000 Thai Baht to get everything done and over with tough any other border crossing into Camodya should be Ten American Bucks for four weeks, but at Hat Yek the issue is non-negociable...maybe why so many shady characters cross La Frontiere here instead of elsewhere...
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Being offered joints and over-priced viagra at inflated prices right under the noses of uniformed border personal while I wait to be processed, Miss anorexia working on her cherished bottle of Black jack, never mind the ice cubes and Cola softerner are nowhere to be seen.
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Reality programming in full swing on the way back, another 84 kilometer but this time with me at the handle bars and Miss Anorexia turning her words into a drag of incomprenhensible slurring, holding on to me with one greasy hand and desperately to the fresh bottle of Regency I bought her before the dreaded return journey, with her other hand, screaming her head off in Thai at innocent passers-by who look on amused and sometimes bemused...
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Back at the hotel with Miss Anorexia passed out on the couch downstairs in the foyer of my guesthouse, the place where it all began several hours early this morning, the rising sun a witness to the insanity of a brand new day in the Thai Kingdom...but then she is gone staggering down the street on her way Lord Buddh only knows where, leaving me with a half empty bottle of five dollar Regency whisky...
Yeah, well, like I said La Vie Est Un Crime Du Jour!!!
An anorexia young local woman down in the foyer of my guesthouse whose hair has been dyed scarlet red and sculpted into a hedge on top of her head, drinking whisky despite the early hour of the morning, inviting me to participate...isn't that great, having to go to Hat Yek, cross the border with sour whisky on my breath...the acid rain of reality in full swing here, I guess, though I find myself on the back of her motorbike only mere minutes later, well on the way to Hat Yek, ready to face the border corruption of one the worse in the border corruption department in this part of the world.
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Skeltering across the road at fifty plus kph, 84 kilometers on the way to total oblivion, or else, on the way to notorious border scams, 2000 Thai Baht to get everything done and over with tough any other border crossing into Camodya should be Ten American Bucks for four weeks, but at Hat Yek the issue is non-negociable...maybe why so many shady characters cross La Frontiere here instead of elsewhere...
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Being offered joints and over-priced viagra at inflated prices right under the noses of uniformed border personal while I wait to be processed, Miss anorexia working on her cherished bottle of Black jack, never mind the ice cubes and Cola softerner are nowhere to be seen.
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Reality programming in full swing on the way back, another 84 kilometer but this time with me at the handle bars and Miss Anorexia turning her words into a drag of incomprenhensible slurring, holding on to me with one greasy hand and desperately to the fresh bottle of Regency I bought her before the dreaded return journey, with her other hand, screaming her head off in Thai at innocent passers-by who look on amused and sometimes bemused...
Isn't life Un Crime Du Jour?
Back at the hotel with Miss Anorexia passed out on the couch downstairs in the foyer of my guesthouse, the place where it all began several hours early this morning, the rising sun a witness to the insanity of a brand new day in the Thai Kingdom...but then she is gone staggering down the street on her way Lord Buddh only knows where, leaving me with a half empty bottle of five dollar Regency whisky...
Yeah, well, like I said La Vie Est Un Crime Du Jour!!!
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Images of Facebook
Trat, 18 Febr. 2012.
The photos bring a rush of remembered emotions, a certain sence of regret but also loathing, relief and pain...the sort of pain experienced when something vulnerable could have been replaced, the fear that something human and very civilised will come back to me, still vividly remembering that rush of excitement all these years ago when I decided enough is enough, leave it all behind and do my own thing, Adios to the folks and a childhood gone completely wrong, travel across the egdes of this piece of mud, look for an early demise on the garbage heaps of this sorry excistence called Terra... didn't happen though with some sort of higher being convinced otherwise...
It all comes back with a vengance when I see the pics my Nongshao back home in the very cold of southern Holland, that boring province called Brabant where I grew up, uploaded 84 year old Dad blowing his birthday cake candles - whetet or not he managed to blow them all out seems unimportant here, really - instant recognition and the memories of a yought tried so hard to leave behind...
But Thailand is the land of day to day,no thoughts for tomorrow or was is past sence, hire my bicycle and cycle all day, live like the locals on a here and now utopia mental high, ignore modern technology, that Facebook nerd back in the good old US of A and sweet sweat, perspire under the harsh Thai sun, big drops of it rolling down my brow while I excercise and try hard to ban these images of an old man from a former life, blowing out candles on his number 84 birthday cake...
But then if that were all true sleep would come early tonight instead of not at all!!!
The photos bring a rush of remembered emotions, a certain sence of regret but also loathing, relief and pain...the sort of pain experienced when something vulnerable could have been replaced, the fear that something human and very civilised will come back to me, still vividly remembering that rush of excitement all these years ago when I decided enough is enough, leave it all behind and do my own thing, Adios to the folks and a childhood gone completely wrong, travel across the egdes of this piece of mud, look for an early demise on the garbage heaps of this sorry excistence called Terra... didn't happen though with some sort of higher being convinced otherwise...
It all comes back with a vengance when I see the pics my Nongshao back home in the very cold of southern Holland, that boring province called Brabant where I grew up, uploaded 84 year old Dad blowing his birthday cake candles - whetet or not he managed to blow them all out seems unimportant here, really - instant recognition and the memories of a yought tried so hard to leave behind...
But Thailand is the land of day to day,no thoughts for tomorrow or was is past sence, hire my bicycle and cycle all day, live like the locals on a here and now utopia mental high, ignore modern technology, that Facebook nerd back in the good old US of A and sweet sweat, perspire under the harsh Thai sun, big drops of it rolling down my brow while I excercise and try hard to ban these images of an old man from a former life, blowing out candles on his number 84 birthday cake...
But then if that were all true sleep would come early tonight instead of not at all!!!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!!!
Trat, 17 febr. 2012.
The kind of look this skinny bloke gives ME probably makes women lament same-sex attraction though the man is Nada to write home about, his clothes falling of his too lean frame like they were potatoe sacks...smoke coming out of his nostrils despite the non-smoking sign on the front window of this mini-bus to Trat, nostrils that belong to a thin and long nose with a couple of bumbs on it making it pretty clear to me he got his orphanatory organ smashed on more than one occassion, probably giving other confirmed hetrosexual-oriented males the same sort of I Want You look, a pencil thin mustache riding a lipless mouth, his hands, long and bony, are marked with lesions that are probably a sign of the AIDS virus he is suffering from...a swagger to his gait as though his hero Numero Uno Freddie Mercury is constantly singing inside his bony head...
Not that I mind gays all that much, the more of them the merrier, less competition in the gene pool, major competition out of the breeding game!!!
Not that I am looking my best myself today...the Kloster drinking session with daughter number one Joy last night probably still clearly visible in the lines that streak my Farang face, my paint-spattered jeans and sweaty singlet, my hairy armpits transmiting the smell of stale beer, a three days' rubble of grayish beard on my chin...
Mister My Name Is AIDS inmediately starting a monoloque about young and willing cambodyan boys, never mind I am interested or not...five hours from Bangkok Ekkamai bus station to Trat, having to listen to this shit...SHIT,SHIT,SHIT!!!
The kind of look this skinny bloke gives ME probably makes women lament same-sex attraction though the man is Nada to write home about, his clothes falling of his too lean frame like they were potatoe sacks...smoke coming out of his nostrils despite the non-smoking sign on the front window of this mini-bus to Trat, nostrils that belong to a thin and long nose with a couple of bumbs on it making it pretty clear to me he got his orphanatory organ smashed on more than one occassion, probably giving other confirmed hetrosexual-oriented males the same sort of I Want You look, a pencil thin mustache riding a lipless mouth, his hands, long and bony, are marked with lesions that are probably a sign of the AIDS virus he is suffering from...a swagger to his gait as though his hero Numero Uno Freddie Mercury is constantly singing inside his bony head...
Not that I mind gays all that much, the more of them the merrier, less competition in the gene pool, major competition out of the breeding game!!!
Not that I am looking my best myself today...the Kloster drinking session with daughter number one Joy last night probably still clearly visible in the lines that streak my Farang face, my paint-spattered jeans and sweaty singlet, my hairy armpits transmiting the smell of stale beer, a three days' rubble of grayish beard on my chin...
Mister My Name Is AIDS inmediately starting a monoloque about young and willing cambodyan boys, never mind I am interested or not...five hours from Bangkok Ekkamai bus station to Trat, having to listen to this shit...SHIT,SHIT,SHIT!!!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
A day at the Bangkok Zoo
Bangkok, 15 Febr. 2012.
People are born lyers, all the time and everywhere, not just the bad guys and the guilty, those who have something to hide or mabye, something to win...lying almost llike a opportunity activity, lie whenever the opportunity arrises, innocent people lie as do the those that have Nada to gain, whether they are mothers who have small children and are therefore supposed to be a parental role model, office dicks being King Prick in Pattaya lie about their sexual prowess and conquests though there is nothing to brag about their inmoral behaviour...I have heard grannies with silver-steaked hair lie like their was no tomorrow...almost like lying is embedded into the human genetic code!!!
Still, eavesdropping on my Thai table partners while I have my dinners, I find lying remarably absent in this Asian population's conversations, though gossip rules at any time..or else I have to seriously consider improving on my Thai!!!
Back at the Bangkok zoo I am surrounded by groups of Thai school children.all of whom want their portrait drawn, their white shirts and blue shorts or skirts falling modestly just across the knee caps reminding me a bit of the boarding school where I grew up...I really came here to sketch animals, a welcome distraction after a whole week of dragging my poor feet across this sweltering megapole, little Sois full with fast food stalls, locals and tourists alike being busy with their day to day affairs, often totally unaware of my quick drawings...animals are what was on my mind today when I bought my entrance tickets, vividly remembering the animals I take care of the voluntary way back home in Amsterdam, the petting zoo in Westerpark where I do my horse manure, cow dung, and pork shit shovelling two days a week...lots of kids and even more animal produced waste...
More parents, more school children, more facial kiddie drawings but Pas D'Animaux here in Bangkok!!!
People are born lyers, all the time and everywhere, not just the bad guys and the guilty, those who have something to hide or mabye, something to win...lying almost llike a opportunity activity, lie whenever the opportunity arrises, innocent people lie as do the those that have Nada to gain, whether they are mothers who have small children and are therefore supposed to be a parental role model, office dicks being King Prick in Pattaya lie about their sexual prowess and conquests though there is nothing to brag about their inmoral behaviour...I have heard grannies with silver-steaked hair lie like their was no tomorrow...almost like lying is embedded into the human genetic code!!!
Still, eavesdropping on my Thai table partners while I have my dinners, I find lying remarably absent in this Asian population's conversations, though gossip rules at any time..or else I have to seriously consider improving on my Thai!!!
Back at the Bangkok zoo I am surrounded by groups of Thai school children.all of whom want their portrait drawn, their white shirts and blue shorts or skirts falling modestly just across the knee caps reminding me a bit of the boarding school where I grew up...I really came here to sketch animals, a welcome distraction after a whole week of dragging my poor feet across this sweltering megapole, little Sois full with fast food stalls, locals and tourists alike being busy with their day to day affairs, often totally unaware of my quick drawings...animals are what was on my mind today when I bought my entrance tickets, vividly remembering the animals I take care of the voluntary way back home in Amsterdam, the petting zoo in Westerpark where I do my horse manure, cow dung, and pork shit shovelling two days a week...lots of kids and even more animal produced waste...
More parents, more school children, more facial kiddie drawings but Pas D'Animaux here in Bangkok!!!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
The way I am!!!
Bangkok, 14 febr. 2012.
I feel a bit like a castoff in this excistence, always having considered life itself a major pain in the proverbial ass, my house nearly devoid of furniture, my biggest indulgence these last five or six years or so, an aquarium, some sort of sorry attempt to bring bring other living creatures into my home and life...
Hardly any photographs of relatives or the children I produced, the seed of my loins another major hassle to my daily affairs, loads of failed love affairs nothing to brag about...most of these ladies having thrown themselves into another relationship, married hastily, another daughter who I have hardly seen since her baby years...
As a parent I never practiced birth control!!!
Sitting here with Joy, drinking Kloster cold to the touch, being back in the Land Of The Thais, dreaming about my failed excistence but keeping my face straight and listening to her the stories of her happy life, no Farang tears here remembering the past, it all comes back, Somtam spicy and hot, Khao Pat Kung down my throat and drinking out in the street, some small little Soi off Thanon Si Lom while being surrounded by locals and another outcome of my sexual lust but never a real parent, consciously banning the smile and female giggles of yet another little spermatoide from my Phii and mind...
Memories a-plenty but always having shunned from my responsibilities, not even wanting to answer the phone when I see it is Paddie's number, always having run from friendship and intimate feelings of love and family...
Nongshao back home telling me about the sad state of health and mental consciousness Dad is in, not having seen Him for over twenty years nor wishing too any time soon...it is the way I am!!!
I feel a bit like a castoff in this excistence, always having considered life itself a major pain in the proverbial ass, my house nearly devoid of furniture, my biggest indulgence these last five or six years or so, an aquarium, some sort of sorry attempt to bring bring other living creatures into my home and life...
Hardly any photographs of relatives or the children I produced, the seed of my loins another major hassle to my daily affairs, loads of failed love affairs nothing to brag about...most of these ladies having thrown themselves into another relationship, married hastily, another daughter who I have hardly seen since her baby years...
As a parent I never practiced birth control!!!
Sitting here with Joy, drinking Kloster cold to the touch, being back in the Land Of The Thais, dreaming about my failed excistence but keeping my face straight and listening to her the stories of her happy life, no Farang tears here remembering the past, it all comes back, Somtam spicy and hot, Khao Pat Kung down my throat and drinking out in the street, some small little Soi off Thanon Si Lom while being surrounded by locals and another outcome of my sexual lust but never a real parent, consciously banning the smile and female giggles of yet another little spermatoide from my Phii and mind...
Memories a-plenty but always having shunned from my responsibilities, not even wanting to answer the phone when I see it is Paddie's number, always having run from friendship and intimate feelings of love and family...
Nongshao back home telling me about the sad state of health and mental consciousness Dad is in, not having seen Him for over twenty years nor wishing too any time soon...it is the way I am!!!
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