Thursday, August 9, 2012
I haven't met them, and I know no personal information about them; my feelings of loathing come purely from my keen observational powers.
Reason number 1: They are the type of people who will drive to the front gate of the house (yeah we live in gated compounds in Bangkok - must have something to do with the occasional rioting or biannual coups) at any time of day or night (more commonly late at night - like late late) and honk the horn incessantly, expecting their maid, who has probably worked a 12 hour day or more and been up since the crack of dawn, to rise from her slumber and open the gate for them. The horns are loud and annoying and at intervals of every 30 seconds to a minute, while the maid choosing to ignore them (and rightfully so) fails to appear. Why are they so fucking lazy that they cant even open the car door, walk 5 feet and unlock the gate for themselves (rhetorical). The energy wasted on waiting for someone to appear, whilst getting resentful in the car must be huge. There is 6 cars parked in their compound, and all are nice 'label cars'. Ones that denote social status - hiso. And every owner of those cars does the same goddamn thing. Cars are expensive here too, like 300% of the price of any normal country. Fucking lazy entitled fucks. I am admittedly and irredeemably low class, and even I think this is the epitome of rudeness.
Reason number 2: they have guard dogs. Dont get me wrong I dont hate the dogs, I hate the owners. Now these type of dogs are treated as such, like dogs. They aren't cherished and spoilt molly coddled members of the family, hand fed from the table like ours are. They are guard dogs, kicked around, swatted with a broom and left outside to their own pitiful existence. I imagine they lead pretty miserable lives. But hey, they guard the house for some shitty food everyday, and are probably pretty loyal, gauging by the snarling barking sounds they make every time someone walks within 20 feet of their vicinity. The other day I noticed their larger dog has what looks like a prolapsed asshole, or the front hole, not sure which. It's a red flesh wound hanging all about on the outside. It looks like an exploding innards volcano, pink, molten and vomit inducing if thought about or looked at for too long... and just no good at all. It disturbed me, I mean it really fucking disturbs me, still. Like take your fucking dog to the vet to have it fixed for fucks sake, you lazy careless fucks. People that dont look after their animals really disappoint me as human beings.
So the last couple of nights, I thought they may have gotten a new puppy, who cant stop barking to broadcast the inevitable that is coming (you know inside flesh cant hang outside for too long without some kind of infection or bacteria starting to eat away at it, not in the tropics of Asia anyways). When I checked tonight which dog was barking, it's actually the other dog. The male dog. I looked over at them, and he is lying at the feet of what I think is his beloved, yapping at her at what I think is understandably heart wrenching distress. As in "yap yap, come save my wife you fucking entitled fucks, she's going to die". My annoyance of the yapping noise level over the last 5 nights kind of subsided into sympathy. This was until, whilst closing the window to shut out his noise, he has roused his bitch up, after hours of harrassment... and is actually just trying to fuck her prolapsed hole. FML... really. Is he doing this out of stress of her possible mortality, the old eros and thanatos debate reduced to beasts. Or is he just another cunty dog trying to screw his bitch over when she is in obvious, unmedicated and untreated pain (again, rhetorical).
Assholes, the whole lot of them.
I feel sorry for the bitch though. I wish they would just take her to the vet and get her fixed or put down. But even now, she's still guarding their house, while her fucktard hubby keeps barking at her. She, fortunately, has the good sense to only emit noise at perceived danger. Dogs don't have a very long life in this country, and there is no RSPCA. Any dog adoption shelters are generally set up out of donations and the kindness of peoples hearts (usually white people, and what I think is some hard core obsessive animal loving - but not the sexy kind).
Oh the humanity. (But what I really mean is - fuck you, you fucking fucks)
Sunday, August 5, 2012
I'm starting to forget things. More than normal. I don't know if my brain is fatigued, or the fact that living in S.E Asia I don't practice my English skills properly or with any dexterity so my vocab is dropping. But it's not just my vocab. It's like having a thought, remembering to do something, walking into the next room and forgetting what I went in there for. I have been told there is some displacement theory in this, so not to worry about it...
But I have brain blocks on certain things. It takes me 5 minutes to remember the word 'landmark' when trying to explain to people how I can navigate the back streets relatively easy. Or the fact that I know my favourite Lebanese restaurant is in a certain hotel, but I can only either remember the name of the restaurant, or the name of the hotel, never the two together when trying to explain it someone. Odd. The hotel is Schillers Inn and the restaurant... what for it while I squeeze for information (it's like taking a brain dump)... Al Ferdoss. It's a good 30 seconds in between remembering one for the other, and today was a good day. I don't know why.
*I just chucked that in for future reference for when I forget... as I know I will be able to find the information somewhere.
I forget what the thought I was just going to write about. It's like, ooh thats a good point, then a second later - gone, like forgetting someone's name as soon as it escapes over their lips.
I'm quite scared I'm going to forget my childhood soon. And only remember the scandalous, character building (but relatively negative traits), the traumatic moments, and none of the pedestrian stuff which also helped formed me whilst growing up. Or worse yet the nice memories of childhood. The warm and fuzzy ones. Like a favourite t-shirt worn to death, or a particular pair of shoes that made me feel safe. Or when I got a cat, or a dog, or another cat, or another dog.
I'm guessing another part of my discomfiture which really highlights my brain degeneration is that I barely remember celebrity names or what film or tv projects they were in anymore. Not sure if it is because my penchant for celebrity gossip has waned with age, and Perez rehabbed his personality so I couldn't be bothered buying into the public relations of how awesome everyone was everyday, or that, you know, my brain is just a bit fucked.
I used to be so good at following the tenets of celebrity gossip. Who was with who, in what time period, what films they did together under what director, who the soap opera fathers were, how many times that star had been married. You know irrelevant details that filled my brain, but I could recall them. I can't even do that anymore. Like I could watch something and immediately place the actor in another film or tv series. Now I get a vague sense I have seen them in something else and have to Wikipedia or IMDB to solve that sense of unsettling vagueness in my brain.
I am wondering if it is a combination of things - i.e the internet and my multitasking splitting my attention span over various objects of entertainment or stimulus moment to moment. The fact that I do not exercise the part of my brain reserved for remembering things like long passages of dialogue. Age might be the factor *nods in agreement with myself; possibly genetics - it's diabetes and dementia in our family that takes hold. Possibly earlier age drug use is a factor, destroying both long term and short term memory function.
Or maybe I'm like Sheryl Crow and have a benign brain tumour which is pushing on a certain part on my brain affecting my memory.... I vote for this one. It's the most critical and anxiety inducing.
Regardless whatever is causing it, I'm slightly worried. Worried about my ability to retain information when I work. Should I study more, should I try and activate my brain somehow. Right now I'm reduced to brain games from here. You know, the laziest way I can try and fix it, supposedly. But even my patience with that dropped today, so my stats went down :(
Soon it will be 'Ouch, My Balls' Territory. And why not. The husband is already disgusted that I laugh at fart jokes.