15b) Bang to the Kok (part 2)

This is my nemesis in Thailand. I used to think i liked spicy food before I got here, but it turns out that i don't even know what spicy food is. Between the heat and the beer to put out the heat my stomach is turning somersaults..

My reflux pills stand no chance against these forces of evil. Taking them to stop reflux is like trying to put out a California wildfire with a squirt gun and a bottle of Poland Spring. The real bitch of it is that my will to resist the vile temptress known as chilies is all but nonexistent.

Each meal starts with such good intentions and ends with me sweating profusely while suffering from heartburn on the level of an overweight Brooklyn cop. And in-between I'm like Pookie in New Jack City- holding the crack pipe with tears streaming down my face trying to make it to morning. It's a sad state where love and hate duel it out on the battlefield called my scarred esophagus, and in the end everyone loses.

A Spicy Food Lover's Prayer

God, Give me the grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed,

Courage to change the things which should be changed,

And the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.

And also God, give me a side of hot sauce on everything, even my cereal.

I know it's gross God, but you made me this way, so fucking deal with it.

3/12 (continued)

Speaking of interesting foods, this was a toppings bar at an ice cream stand. Everything seems status quo, until you realize that the yellow jar at the back is filled with corn. Yummo?

Muay Thai Boxing. Kick his ass, Seabass!

This is an interesting take on the cage match. The audience, not the fighters, was in the cage. I suppose I would have found this offensive, had I not selected to sit in the caged section with the unruly Thais.

Because that's where all the betting went down!

5-1 odds that this guy has broken someone's fingers in the last week. Any takers? C'mon, where's my action?

The betting process is still a mystery to me, but it involved an intricate system of hand signals and lots of loud, spastic shouting. Odds would change throughout the fight based on a universal acceptance by the crowd of who was winning. I tried to ask what happened if there was a k.o. in round 5 after everyone in the audience had agreed on a winner in round 4 and subsequently paid the bookies before the fight was over (which basically happened every fight). I never got an answer but I did get some dirty looks from the locals for not staying in the white-boy seating section. Don't those fools know the only part of me that's white is my fat-ass wallet? Oh snap, that's right.

They left this up after a 1978 Foreigner-Journey double-bill. I didn't see which way ELO was supposed to go, but I didn't really look that hard.

Is there an extreme sport that Redbull doesn't sponsor?

The marketing team there is going to have to start inventing sports just to sponsor them. Oh wait, they already do.

The night's big winner... Kid Delicious. A few more wins and he can quit his moonlighting gig as a lady boy.

3/13

Two Friday the Thirteenths in a row!? What's going on here? Did father time go on holiday and leave the reigns to Vincent Price?












Touring Bangkok with a Korean chick that lives in Dublin. The pigtails were her idea. I should have proposed right then and there.

This game involved hacking/head-butting/shoulder-butting a small volleyball 25 feet in the air into a tiny hoop. Amazing skill, but do you need matching jerseys just to stand around in a circle?

Street food in Bangkok is a culture unto-itself.

The homeless here must eat like kings, as the city is essentially one sprawling outdoor kitchen. A new love of mine- the fried banana. This + raspberry jam = fat (but happy) Robby.

The night of a thousand wigs

Like a little Joey Ramone in training

This pretty much says it all. Bob Marley and Che Guevara. These have to be the two most copied images in the world.

Which gets me thinking about what that says about people? They are both symbols of uprising- of power to the masses. They're both non-white men with scraggly beards. They're both seen as unifiers and they were both persecuted for their beliefs. So I guess that is the secret to international acclaim:

1) Grow a beard

2) Fight for a cause

3) Die a martyr for said cause at the hands of the man

If you were unfortunate enough to be born white, however, just give up now. You have no shot. Just buy a set of golf clubs and go into finance already. But as insurance I'd suggest hanging these two images in your foyer for when the rebels eventually come. They'll want blood but if they see good old Bob and Che they might at least spare the women.

And speaking of prolific imagery... for once I really am lovin it!
















Clever, but where's his morals? Any fish that is willing to serve a steaming plate of his own kind is not worth patronizing as far as I'm concerned. The situation just isn't that dire, my man. I mean this isn't 1939 Poland.

Remember my motorcycle accident?
I do.

Me hitting the local hand-rolled stogy

A computer-generated image of me in 40 years if I kept smoking cigars. Apparently the over-active intake of tobacco also affected my sense of style.

Goodbye Bangkok.

Manchester United vs. Liverpool on the big screen at the train station. Good game.

And next stop... Chang Mia in the north. See you there.

15a) Vietnam> Thailand: Bang to the Kok (part 1)

3/10

Thailand is sort of the Mecca of backpacking and I have wanted to go there for a good ten years, so I was excited to check it out. But first, a Vietnamese goodbye.

Spring roll style

This is one of those airport receptacles where you are forced to ditch stuff you can't bring onboard. Ok, so I count at least a good 7 people trying to bring farm equipment on airplanes. Are people that attached to their spades here? What are they going to do, plant tulips at 30,000 feet?

Here we go

Under the "Here's Something You Don't See Everyday" heading, a building that is a giant ad. And we think we are progressive for wrapping buses. We're sitting bench on JV and we think we're starting on Varsity. Sad.

3/11

A watermelon shake- aka heaven in a glass- aka the perfect breakfast drink. It's just pure blended fruit and some simple syrup. Why they don't sell these on every corner at home is beyond me.
















I thawt I saw a glass of Thai Whisky. I did, I did.



























Who says Puerto Ricans rule the souped-up bike scene? This guy would probably be laughed out of the Boricua parade for not being flamboyant enough, but then again he would not get raped at the Boricua parade, so I'm not sure that is a big loss. Either way, he owned Khao San Road.

Khao San Road is sort of the center of the backpacking universe. It's like Haight Street is to hippies and Bedford Ave is to hipsters. Like both streets it's also a grossly-inflated parody of itself. Still, it had its redeeming qualities.

Like this guy.

I've never seen a street performer rock this crazy before. Actually I did once, but only Soden and Molly Derkin remember that. Anyone remember her? Shout out to MD wherever she is.

As you might expect, you can pierce and/or tattoo anything on Khao San Road. I like the idea of getting this (the entire image) tattooed on my arm. A tattoo of another tattooed-body-part is at least original. You can't imagine how many unoriginal and lame tattoos I have seen on this trip. If I get a tattoo here it will be Thai writing that translates as "your gay tattoo is even gayer than this very very gay tattoo."

Finally, a copy of Sugar!

Two months with nothing but Teen Vogue was starting to get to me.

And finally a foot-long that is actually that!

I've always hated ordering a footlong at the ballpark and getting some rinky-dink eight-inch dog. I want the real thing, damn it! When I want 8 inches in some buns I'll go to the Castro, thank you very much

3/12

Remember my motorcycle accident?
I do.

This place is just perfect. It couldn't be headier. It would kill as a satellite booth on Phish tour. It would be the centerpiece of Shakedown.

Dr. Taco, proud sponsor of the WNBA.

Seriously though, who exactly is the target audience here? Is the processed-food loving, Thai-lesbian community that large? This one is sort of easy. Feel free to add your own caption in the comment section. JC/Tom/Marge- I'm looking at you.

Thailand's Next Dance Crew.

I like coming across b-boy wannabees dancing in make-shift mirrors, but they never deliver.

If pressed, I could pull together a dance crew as good as these dudes. Or could I?

Rob's Dance Crew-if he was challenged to a dance-off on national television

Coe- doesn't dance (out)

Soden- funky (in)

Klien- good moves, but too much of a showboat. I need team players (out)

Cobb- (out) for several reasons, not the least of which being he is far to disruptive a presence for practice

Howard- (in), but barely

Kleeman- I would say in, but after his failed attempt at break dancing class... sorry man (out)

Sampy- (in) if he brings the weed. He's the waterboy

Matty J- Interesting. I know he's got it in him, but can he deliver on the spot? (Alternate)

Tommy- I'm not sure I have ever actually seen him dance before. Did I just discover Tom's biggest secret? Considering the type of music we'll be using, I'll do us both a favor and say (out)

Fordo- family first (in)

Jay Lee- Soooo (in). Hell, he can also make the costumes

Ryan- (ummm....) that’s how I say (out) when I don't have the heart to just say it. "Hey rob; can you help me move this weekend? Ummm...."

Who else am I friends with that are reading this blog? Do I even have any more male friends? Well clearly the real loser in this exercise is me. I'll just try to buy-off Randy Jackson with coupons to Popeye’s and see what that gets me. Sigh.

Bangkok to be continued...