Thursday, November 5, 2009

I <3 Sons of Anarchy.

An Open Letter to Kurt Sutter (writer, creator and EP of Sons Of Anarchy): You are my FUCKING hero, dude. Not since Deadwood season two (where I had to go to the video store midway through to hire the last discs so I never had to stop watching) have I watched such brilliant writing, such wonderfully crafted characters, embodied by such an eclectic and talented cast of actors. Fucking brilliant.

Extraordinarily courageous, finely nuanced, complex people, whose extensive back stories build upon and create total believability in the woven tales you tell. Yet by no means does this group, which has grown and flourished from your minds eye, represent the moral compass of "normative" society. Quite the opposite really, which is just the fucking bomb. I can empathise, sympathise, and relate to them, because I too, would consider myself a fringe dweller, (I'm not really into bikes though).

So, for all you people who think you are part of a counter culture, subculture, fringe dwelling, anarchists, raging against 'the man'. Yes, and for you also…you, the arbitrary fetishists who get a "muff chubby" for men who wear leather and ride big bikes. For film lovers, well told story admirers, acting junkies, who are starved for good content, which, lets all admit, is fucknuck hard to come by these days. For any one who doesn't consider themselves part of a standard, day to day, 9 to 5, seven eleven suburbanite, The Sons of Anarchy is for you. And probably for a few others too, particularly for those of you who love your god given right to bear arms.

Each actor, and therefore character has a crystal clear objective, action, activity, and obstacle they play throughout the story arc. The art direction is detailed, poignant, and well thought out. The writing is exquisite, and if you read Sutter's blog, which details the biker community's response to the show, they say - "It might be a soap, but it's our soap". Unlike most soaps (I've seen soaps, and it's not something I would call a soap), it's far from soporific though. The show is addictive.

It's made on a lean budget, with what Sutter calls "Guerilla film making techniques". They have seven day shoots, focusing on being totally filmic in style. I imagine the locations and plot lines will widen and diversify, once viewership grows, giving them money to play around. But they really work with what they have.

For me, watching SAM CROW (you too will know what this means when the obsession overtakes) is like eating an insanely delicious feast, where the table fare is so delectable, you can't help but inhale the food with the help of your grubby little fingers, shoveling it into your greedy little pie hole. At the end, as you crave for more, your tongue smears the plate, your extremely provincial and uncultured self licking every bit of food remnant off, for your entire dinner party to see, but just not give a shit.

If you live in a country where you can either buy DVD's of series, or get cable, I urge you to be one of the viewers who sits through advertising, or buys the actual series outright. This is purely selfish reasoning though, as mainly I want to see all of the seven seasons it has been contracted for, being made.

Thursday, October 1, 2009


This is an email, published in the Far East Economic Review as stated below. I'm not the author, but after experiencing the phone service here, I do understand it.

For us who were "fortunate" to experience phone service. You need to read this aloud (for full effect). Just say any unfamiliar words phonetically.

It's amazing, but you will understand what "Tenjuberrymud" means by the end of the conversation. This was nominated for best e-mail of 1999. Following is a telephone conversation between a hotel guest and room-service at a hotel in Asia (just for the record, I'm also from Asia). The call was recorded and later published in the Far East Economic Review.

Here goes ...

Room Service (RS): "Morny, Ruin Sorbees."

Guest (G): "Sorry, I thought I dialed Room Service."

RS: Rye...Ruinsorbees...morny! Djuwish to odor sunteen?

G: Un...Yes...I'd like some bacon and eggs.

RS: Ow july den?

G: What?

RS: Ow july den?...pry, boy, pooch?

G: Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry, scrambled please.

RS: Ow july dee baychem...crease?

G: Crisp will be fine.

RS: Hokay. An san toes?

G: I don't think so.

RS: No? Judo one toes??

G: I feel really bad about this, but I don't know what "judo one toes" means.

RS: Toes! Toes!...Why djuw don juan toes? Ow bow inglish moppig we bother?

G: English muffin!! I've got it! You were saying "Toast!" Fine. Yes an english muffin will be fine.

RS: We bother?

G: No...just put the bother on the side.

RS: Wad?

G: I mean butter...just put it on the side.

RS: Copy?

G: Sorry?

RS: Copy...Tea...Mill?

G: Yes, coffee please and that's all.

RS: One minnie. Ass ruin torino fee, strangle ache, crease baychem, tossy inglish moppig we bother honey sign, and copy...rye??

G: Whatever you say.

RS: Tenjuberrymud.

G: You're welcome.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Film Stuff.

This week Bangkok is holding it's 'International Film Festival', and with it comes the standard film industry seminars. I have been attending some, because well, it's about film. I like films - I like making them, I like watching them.

Today's seminar, held in arctic conditions, because it's totally fashionable to dress in a full piece suit in the tropical climes of sunny Bangkok, was about "protecting your project in a digital age" or some craply aptly named thing.

Oxymoronic if you ask me.

I had a couple of questions which I didn't bother asking, and they were covered in a studio tow-the-line propagandic type of way. As you can expect of three piece suit men, clutching onto an old system, living in fear their big money lifestyles, and golden parachutes are coming to an end.

I was wondering how can 'big film business' stem piracy, when popular torrent sites (apparently the industry's biggest threat, but least broached upon subject for the day) are being shut down, yet the next day, three more pop up in their place. And why not take on an offensive attitude by putting more money into embracing a comprehensive, equitable, and universal digital distribution model, rather than spending shit loads on trying to kill off piracy, before losing what little hold traditional distributors, such as studios, have left.

And why, when a person can download a decent or watchable copy of a film, not to be released in their territory in the near future, and be able to watch said copy in the comfort of their own home, through a media server, projected onto a large screen, or a 72" plasma, would a person bother to go to the cinema, or buy a hardcopy of DVD at an overly inflated price, months later.

Especially when the majority of films being distributed are questionable, mostly regarding the quality of reductive writing and rehashed story lines, AND by assuming their audience has the intellect of a 7 year old. Because Transformers 2 was really challenging, as was the new Terminator (insert number here)

We have come to a day in age where viewers are dictating the terms of distribution, how they want it, when they want it, and what format they want it in.

Apparently the 'good' Suits in the well paid but redundant positions (mainly because they can't make the old model work anymore) are working on a solution. One which probably means a combination of sponsored ads, and paying a minimal fee for watching a film, which will be digitally distributed over the internet. But the amount of time they are doing it in… well it kind of confounds me. They say it's going to take another 5-10 years to resolve itself.

Another 5 - 10 years of them trying to retain their jobs and lifestyles in my opinion. But, that could just be my anti-the-man upbringing talking.

The film industry is clearly flailing about, while it tries to resolve how to get its product out whilst still "maximizing profit". What becomes abundantly clear is someone is going to have to pay.

My question is, why does it have to be us, the poor people? Because clearly they want it to be us, and they expect it to be us. Why should we support their hyperbolic lifestyles, which they are obviously in great fear of losing? And this starts at the above the line talent, who I think are grossly over paid and generally under skilled, following on to those *ahem* 'producer' types who take an incredible fee out for doing sweet fuck all. The under the line budget which actually gets the film made, is proportionally a lot smaller, once these tossers are paid.

Look, I understand the concept of "show business", but fuck, wake up people, like the other guy said, "the 80s are OVER".

In the end I had to agree with the independent documentary film maker who totally offended the whole panel, and all the money grubbing whores in the crowd. Maybe a $120 million dollar film's real worth is reflected in the price you would pay for an illegal copy - about $3.00. Because with the type of shit Hollywood is putting out on a regular basis, price point doesn't count. A $120 million dollar pile of shit, is still, just a pile of shit.

And yeah, maybe my take on the situation might be an oversimplified one. Sure, major piracy using hard copy counterfeited discs, probably involves a level of heavy organized crime, world wide. But a large part of it comes down to bit torrent sites, the Industry's self proclaimed biggest threat, which is what they should be focussing on. You aren't going to be able to stop people file sharing, but if you stopped being such greedy cunts, maybe you could profit from digital distribution more quickly.

I can't help but think, hurry up and revolutionize the system. Because whether they like it or not, it's being revolutionized for them.

I also bet every one of those audience members had a pirated copy of something in their collection, because in Asia, it's virtually impossible to find a real copy of anything.

Give it up people… Apple is going to kick your ass.

Edit: I think this subreddit has some valid points about internet piracy

along with some of the notions in this one:

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Koh Samet.

Belated Posting.

I had 2 requirements for accommodation.
1. hot water
2. own bathroom.

First night the cheapest and worst hotel - 500 baht: No hot water, no aircon, own bathroom but not connected to our room and when I went in to use it, the dankness made my skin crawl, a fan which oscillated, no top sheet but a 'blanket' and a bed like wood. 2/10 for comfort. We moved.

Second night, twice the price of the first hotel, but "half of what it was on weekends" (their maths doesn't add up): hot water - tick, half decent bed - tick, own bathroom inside - tick, television - tick, aircon - tick, bedding - mmmmmm... a fucking deluge of small biting ants which besieged our room, bed, shoes, clothes, bags - totally fantastic. We moved. I left several imprints of my tacky henna tattoo on the sheets. Whoops. 6/10 for comfort.

Third night, little huts on a secluded beach at 1500 baht a night (recommended by a friend and quite picturesque): own bathroom - yes, hot water - no, a lamp for reading - woot, aircon - no, fan which oscillates - yes, a towel like blanket - yes, a plague of mosquitos - yes, leak in the roof which dripped straight onto my head when it poured down, excellent. Winner of the lot due to Mike coming out of toilet from his morning shit with a dirty bot bot saying "I can't reach the toilet paper because there is a snake in the way". Awesome. Unscorable. Like paying $80 bucks a night to stay out at Tuntable.

It was a bit too close to a camping experience with the biting insects, the indoor reptiles, the leaky roof, the hard beds, the bad sunburn. And because I spent the first few years of my life communing with nature and living in tents - I have a policy of no camping.

By then end of the three days and waking up to a snake in the shitter, I was quite eager to pack up my shit up and get the fuck out.

Returning to my own creature comfort bedroom, with my own bathroom and a hot shower - total relief. Luxury, it's like being on holiday.

Koh Samet the Island. Quite beautiful. Prices - 'Tamada' (meaning normal/neither here nor there). Snorkeling much fun, being with friends who are as moody as I am, pretty cool. I don't recommend the oil massage on the beach, think sand paper on sunburn. It's why I could never understand the notion of copulating by the seaside. The food was surprisingly good, but we mostly ate at one restaurant, its menu spanning the cuisine of about five nationalities. Next time I would look around, and stay in a more expensive place, making sure I could get as close to my bedroom as possible.

Have formatted pics into 'comic style' sans humour, and pithiness, purely because I am lazy, and it's easier to post 13 jpgs rather than 100.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

What The Fuck.

What is wrong with this picture? Cheap Charlie's, Sukhumvit Soi 11, 11.30 PM, last Friday night.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Fucking Films, Not Fuck Films, Just Films are fucked.

I think it's deplorable what money hungry accounting assholes who run hollywood have done to films. Mainstream films have become a vapid, soulless, in-transformative, un-uplifting experience, dumbed down with models who can do nothing but hit marks and deliver, sorry, repeat lines. I'm saying nothing original or new here, I know, *sighs*, thought I would complain anyways, as there is fuck all I see these days where I think the performance was something to get excited about.

I get worried when I have seen movies which have been reviewed well, but turn out to be an absolute pile of shite or worse even. Worried that we have been accepting mediocrity in films for so long, it is now the accepted norm. How do you educate the youth of today, that it wasn't always shit, when they don't even realise it is shit they are being subjected to.

Here is some vomiting of vitriol describing people in films I have seen recently.

Eliza Dushku, hot when stabbing vampires at 16, but can't play anything other than yourself, ever - The Alphabet Killer, what the fuck? You got old quick and look like you pumped out a footie team of kids, when you've had none. To say nothing of your counter part Buffy, her voice will always grind in my ears.

Other serial offenders include: Liv tyler - snooozefest, always the same, come to think of it I haven't seen anything with her in it recently, but always fucking etherial, naive and full lipped when I do. It's boring. Be a cunt for once.

Bradley Cooper, not done much, but consistently plays type A asshole. I did laugh throughout The Hangover, so props, but the last 3 things I have seen you in - *shrugs* ...Asshole.

Amy Adams, yeah you might be an 'emotional being' emoting with your eyes and all that jazz, but unfortunately I'm sitting on the fence until you do something radically different. Change the high pitch nicety of your voice for once you good girl. I'm yet to see Julia and Julia, but it looks like sitting through it will hurt my ass while I wait for the end. Sunshine Cleaning and Doubt, interesting films, not much character development from you, apart from a costume change, and I still eagerly awaited the end.

Jennifer Garner, same same, do you know how to play anything other than your cutsey, self assured, I assume what passes for your regular, everyday personality? Mathew McConaugh*hyuck hyuck*, put a fucking shirt on, and try to act for once. Both of you should be ashamed, remakes of Dickens's Christmas Carol a No No. Please spare us the eye raping.

Julia Roberts, I'm sorry but your day has come and gone, time to leave the building because you would be what is known as "long in the tooth". Suggestion after watching Duplicity: retirement and look after those babies you had with your paid for divorcee husband. You, like Tom Cruise, are watchable, but neither of you can ever really get past yourselves. True and ongoing transformative powers elude you for the star status you seem to claim. And the large corresponding pay check you insist upon - waste of money.

Jennifer Aniston, Puh-Lease, understand you can not, repeat CANNOT play Rachel in every role you agree to and call yourself an actress or, for that matter, have a burgeoning career. It's like feeding us shit on a plate and telling us it's Foie gras. Marley and Me – Rachel. The last 5 films you have been in – Rachel. I now, and for some time, try and avoid anything you have signed your name to, knowing I will be served shit on a plate. That is time I will never get back.

Keanu Reeves. Swallow the fucking pill already. Your face is looking strangely plastic Ted. You can't act can you? Not really. You look good in black leather circa 10 years ago. Go be gay somewhere else already.

Jim Carrey, you get older and do the same shit, but your co stars get younger, and it's creeping me out. Yes Man, Particularly your big fake white teeth, and the halitosis I imagine you have, while you stick your tongue down their throats, making me cringe, because there is absolutely no chemistry happening what so ever. Try drama for a change. It worked once didn't it?

It's not all bad news though, there a few films which have had either stand out performances, or combined efforts worth talking about. Here is some of the ones I can remember at this moment.

Good Dick, not a fantastic movie but a one woman show – directed, acted, written by Marianna Palka, which for me was somewhat inspiring. I had to fast forward through the filler where stagnation happens (somewhat typical of a chick flick I find), and although I didn't entirely agree with the premise of the film, the overall ensemble performances where honest, and her work ethic astonishing. Even so, the film grossed $40 000 overall, so an effort all for naught really, as her IMDB page suggests she is doing nothing new, shame.

Tom hardy for performance - Bronson. A beautifully shot, and somewhat deranged film, boring in bits. I hadn't noticed this person before, but was amazed at his acting capabilities, Fucking awesome performance, no shitting you. A true character actor. Especially when looking at photos of him in different roles. I googled fervently after watching this film.

Michele Williams, the only one to make it out of Dawsons Creek alive. Incendiary - I believed you as a british slapper, east end housewife, the acting is good, even if you are the spit image of Billy Piper, but please pick better films, ones which have a point. Was it thriller, drama, comedy, love story? whatever it was, overall, there was no meshing.

Steve Coogan, haven't seen you for a while, but there has been at least 3 films in which it has only been half way through where I have realised who it is. I commend you. I recommend you, I would watch anything you are in... well nearly anything.

Heath ledger, fuck what a shame. Someone worth watching. I liked your gay cowboy eating chocolate pudding. It took me three years to watch the film, but it was worth it in the end. I put you in here, because the mother of your child reminded me of you. I don't think I want to see Gilliam's newest mess though, where you died mid film.

Christian Bale, highly strung, but extremely versatile. Has been for a while. I don't care how eccentric or abusive you get, your character adaptations make it worth while.

Robert Downey Junior, Sam Rockwell, Clive Owen, Gerard Butler, and sometimes Collin Farrel. All somewhat transformative, and what they lack in that, they make up for in manliness. So kudos there boys.

TV shows where the writing is good. Lets face it, TV is the writers medium, so most of the best stuff is actually being produced on TV. True Blood, Anna Paquin, I would have liked to see you play many other character types before committing to southern drawl Sookie in her short shorts. I'm concerned it might pigeon hole you. You are however good, and I have seen you change.

Sadly, it seems harder to come across female talent who don't have a problem with getting ugly, playing it real, or being horrid. Meryl Streep at 60 still seems to be outshining everyone else. Typical. Stop modeling women, modeling does not pass as acting, take a class already, get an objective, have an action, an activity, and fucking feel something already. Putting on a prosthetic does not mean you deserve an Oscar either.

Fuck me.

*For films I hated, I used Wiki links, believe me, you wont care about the spoilers. For the ones I thought watchable or *ahem* liked, I put the real links in so you're safe.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Filling Time and Escaping Reality.

Whilst I spend my waking hours (generally between 2pm and 7am at the moment) trying to amuse myself, or amuse myself quietly (poorly I might add) so my husband, the household breadwinner, can sleep (wakes if you move more than a centimeter), I cruise the interweb looking for time fillers and avenues of escapism.

I do this to stem the dull roar of silence which harbors endless internal questions – existential, philosophical, or just plain obsessive – keeping me from sleeping properly, or, indeed, if at all. The lights turned out before exhaustion sets in, is akin to going fucking mental.

Must find hobby, creative outlet, purpose to life. Or drugs.

Hmm, on second thought, maybe, they are all inclusive.

Here are some of the better time wasters. - better than Digg in so many ways. Quicker than Digg too, in every sense of the word. You can find out, on a daily basis, how fucked our leading countries of world economies, and by default, the leaders of the world are.

America - flagship nation of sex offense laws "wont somebody think of the children". I am astounded by the shit that goes on there. Peeing in public is the new one. Once you are on the sex offenders list, your entire life is pretty much fucked. This includes all the teenagers being done as child pornographers for sending nude pics of themselves or for having underage sex (usually with someone a year younger than them).

Current political debates point out the redneck right of the US liken Obama to Hitler because he wants to pass a national healthcare plan. Although, I have to say, he is quite good at speeches. Download Obama ringtones here - thanks reddit.

UK... no fucking better. The Biggest Bother of them all. Most policed nanny state in the world, where you are on film daily. Is it 20 000 times whilst shopping downtown? Say cheese. Now forcing parents to take parenting class, and arresting people because of their height. Passing 7000 new crimes in the last year. Can anyone say 'thought police'?

There is a myriad of shit on reddit which makes you both laugh and cringe. Like this , or this, informative like this or banal yet funny like this. Only yesterdays examples. Anyways, it's a veritable interweb buffet.

My all time favourite for time wasting are the celebrity bashing sites. A true leveler. Post more fatty cellulite pics I say. And wrinkly faces of 40 year olds, which haven't been photoshopped. first and foremost. Has become less bitchier the more popular he becomes, *sighs*. Bring back the white pen vandalism. When he runs out of shit flinging, or horrid self promotion of himself and his friends I then go here, getting more desperate as things run out, I then turn here, then disgust myself by going to this lame PG rated site out of Canada . Ending off with this. Needless to say self loathing has set in by this point.

So anyways, thats a couple of hours of good entertainment there, and thats before hitting the blogs.

A site found which I thought could be quite promising due to my lack of English speaking contact here in Bangkok, was Omegle, where you can talk anonymously to strangers. But since I am probably now one of the 'older generation' on there – no seriously, I find myself having discussions with closet atheist teenagers who have the attention span of a gnat. One guy was an Australian with the email of greasywog@yadda, living in the western suburbs of Sydney, with his schizophrenic mother, drug dealing since he was 15, having girl problems and pining for rehab because of his gambling and drug addiction. I suggested a 12 step program.

After the first couple of times, the hit rate was like one in 30 before you could get something that resembled a conversation going. Many non native english speakers on there, using you for practice, *snores*. Mostly it just makes you feel old though, since everyone is in fucking high school. As soon as you tell them your real age, they seem to freak out a bit or lose interest. Not to mention, I now have to watch what I say, "wont I think of the children?"... *pukes*. So not as exciting as one may hope.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Miscellaneous Bangkok.

Here's some more iPhone pics. Thailand, for all my complaining, is a pretty fucking cool country to live in.

Taking a boat on the canal... not quite a ferry. For 12 baht ($0.42 AUS), you can travel down a lovely black sewerage canal to downtown bangkok, from the end of our street - maximum time 15 minutes. Fine until the water starts splashing in your face, and you feel the urgent need to shower.

Me and my Opa the day I turned 30. I wish my brain was this fuzzy. I mean medically induced fuzzy. I posted this one so you can't see my wrinkles.

Monk buckets, buy these, give to monks, buy favour...
live longer?

Actually I have no idea how it works, I think it's part of giving alms.

The Evening Food Truck.
Trucks abundant with food roll up at 6 PM everyday, and you spend maybe $4 bucks, which buys about 10 shopping bags, give or take, of fresh shit. Eat and repeat.

Inside the back of a fruit truck.

The local sausage seller. Right on our front doorstep. Well, more literally, just outside the compound's front gates.

Our next door neighbours reside in a shanty slum with no running water. They work in construction, get picked up every morning by utility trucks, crammed into the back and driven to their job locations. Dropped off at night the same way. Rinse and repeat 6 days a week.

Epidemic or Pandemic Fashion. Or daily wear for dealing with pollution. I don't bother myself, but couldn't resist the Hello Kitty face mask.

Illegal lotto. Purdy.

The hardware shops my Opa insisted on visiting on a daily basis. I went once, it was enough. Here he bought numerous things, which were about a dollar less than Australia, making his baggage many kilos overweight. The overall result being: the shit he bought here, more expensive than just buying it in Australia.

The animal section of Chuttachuck. The biggest market in the southern hemisphere, so I have been told. Many exotic animals, in small cages, looking freaked out, waiting to die. I thought skunks where native to North America, but who the fuck knows. You could also pick up different types of monkeys, parakeets, snakes, turtles, hamsters, squirrels, and other various weird and exotic shit.

For some reason the store-holders think dressing them up this way makes the produce more appealing. I'm pretty sure the ones who look 'sick' at the end of the day get turfed. It's actually quite horrifying entering this part of the market.

Fish which I thought would be dead by the end of the day.

JJ's as it's fondly known by the locals, is a never ending, all out shopping war. You could go there 50 times and not see the same store twice. And you would have to do it all before 12 pm, as the temperature on the ground rises to sickening proportions. Think Heat Stroke.

Feet suckers at Suane Lum Night Bizarre. It's fashionable, apparently.
Eating the dead skin off your feet. Personally, I'm not so adventurous. Suane Lum is certainly more civilised for those who like avoiding traffic and heat.

A bar called Livingstones, (I think) in the middle of Bangkok. It has a pool with a diving board, and the main bar is in the style of a revamped garage. Feels like a porn set.

My Opa loved local cuisine.

Fortune Town IT mall. I don't think you will experience anything like it in a western country. Buy pretty much anything you want in IT/Media/Computers etc. Can't get a licensed copy of Sims 3 though. Or a legal version of any game for that matter.

I have to say, these pics look way better as thumbnails. Anyways, that's my latest pictorial update for a white chick living in Asia.

Lamenting My youth.

I turned 30 last week. Well near a week and a half ago, really.

It's shit.

I've spent 6 months dreading turning 30 - specifically ruminating over it late at night. The last day of my 20s I considered topping myself before I turned 30 (thinking only the good die young)... and the last week and a half basically in bed crying because...

I don't care what you say – I'm officially old, and depressed. Some reasons outlining why:

A. I can't read newspapers, media or magazines without feeling increasingly out of touch, old, ugly and generally wrong (the internet is a little more leveling).

B. I haven't felt creative in what seems like and is years – probably one of my biggest worries. I certainly don't have the motivation, drive, or crazy ideas I had when I was only 5 years younger.

C. I live in a foreign country with a few acquaintances, maybe 2 people (not including my significant other) I can stand listening to for more than 5 minutes at a time, they are both male, and you either have to pay more or less attention to them depending on how much they drink. Certainly no one I can have a in-depth conversation with, you know - those shorthand tete a tete's (I would say heart to heart or deep and meaningful, but it sounds so fucking gay) where historical references are understood because that person has known you half your life.

D. My skill base is limited. Fucking waaaaaaay limited.

and finally

E. I have no purpose in life... no really.

I'm worried I will always be a miserable bitch, cynical, pessimistic (if I was in a more optimistic mood I would call the trait 'realistic'), distrustful of human kind, and I know I will never engender enough enthusiasm to be a 'people person', because I am a snob in terms of intelligence, street sense, and a persons 'mettle', and most people suck. Sorry, but they really do. I figure this part of my personality will only become more twisted and engrained with time.

Kind of scary.

Actually, we could probably put it down to extremely low self esteem and a total sense of futility. One probably begets the other.

I vacillate between wanting to take up assassination as a full time job as humanity is up the shitter, or moving to a war torn and life endangering country to help those less fortunate than myself, to regain a sense of gratitude. Either way, they are semi suicidal.

I regret, yes REGRET, never being courageous enough to do what I wanted to earlier in life, and now it's certainly too late. Mad at myself, because as I have gotten older, I have found it really hard to let go of things. Particularly rage encountered when dealing with the mediocre people who drain my energy and fuck my life around. I really have to 'start to let things go' – the phrase itself, makes me feel like punching someone in the face... repeatedly.

I guess what I find somewhat discombobulating is that I was always a younger person in a group of adults. And if 'you're only as old as you feel'... well I've always felt old, but found it works better for you if you're 15 and nubile. Now I'm fucking 30, and I AM the adult, the Mrs whose body is encountering gravity, the woman that children move out of the way for, the fucking wife - not that I mind being a wife, but living in a sexpat community, they aren't highly thought of and the maid does all the housework.

There is such a generation gap between me and young people, I can't understand what the fuck is going on in their heads. Music sounds loud, and shit. Mainly because it is I suppose. Prefabricated crap. Fashion is regurgitated and style-less. Tween girls who dress like whores, young boys wearing eyeliner and crying in the dark... Fuck me, in my older age did I suddenly become conservative?

I dressed like a teenage whore, my daddy said so. I also attended Rocky Horror Picture Show on friday nights, where all the boys wore makeup and danced like trannies.

I can't deny it, I'm getting old. Every second passed is a second closer to death. More to the point, I have to figure out, again, what the fuck I am going to do with my life when I grow up. The horrid part is, I am already there.

So once I get over this month of crying in bed, because it's no good breaking into tears in public with your husband, people think he is beating you, and blubbering at shop counters in a emotionally repressed society just makes them talk faster in thai about you, nothing of which you can understand.

I figure somehow I will start again. On what, and how, who the fuck knows. But if the mediocre are at their best all the time... well I'm sure there is room for me somewhere.

Sunday, July 26, 2009


Not impressed with this location. Have been looking forward to getting out of Bangkok for a few weeks, mainly to find some fresh air. I'm beginning to think it's a resource Thailand runs short on.

Anyways... yeah...Pattaya... what can one say about it... a dreamy location where the old, tired and ugly whores retire to accommodate and service an aging population of sexpats. And when I mean aging, I mean... Geriatrics with dentures and zimmer frames... and possibly nappies, but thats just an educated guess. Although, we did visit in the day time, so I think perhaps the younger working girls might creep out at night. Got to give the old working horses a gander I guess.

Like every other globalised country in this world, you have your Holiday Inn, your Ibis, Amari, Nova, Mercure etc... all beach side. Next to them, You have shopping malls with Nike, Mango, Guess, Esprit, FCUK, Crocs, Burger King, Macdonalds, Donut King, Starbucks, etc etc. Same same but, well, same.

The beach itself – Shite. I got so excited about going to the beach I actually wore swimmers (rare for me), when I got there, I took one look at it, and decided I wouldn't even bother getting my feet sandy let alone wet.

The water looked like tepid swill, filled with sewerage, oil and floating plastic. I'm thinking if you had any open abrasions and went in for a dip, infection would ensue.

There was actually no beach smell. None, whatsoever. It was totally masked by the smell of the storm drains, which I assume ran directly into the ocean.

We got their before 11am, and were watching sexpats guzzle white wine with ice cubes, before mid day. Probably nursing their hangovers. Every white dude seemed red eyed and hung over, or just down right 'special'.

Best thing about Pattaya, the flower market and buying 4 turtles - Which I obviously have to name Leonardo, Donatello, Michael Angelo and Raphael.

I wouldn't be able to own turtles in Australia with out some license of some kind, which I would never bother to get. Officious twats. Here in Asia, they eat them. So I don't think they much care that my TMNT now live in a salad bowl as a centre piece on the dining table.