I’m in Bangkok right now. I’m not really supposed to be in Bangkok at all. It’s like art in the scheme of human evolution, it’s just a little biproduct that’s kind of nice. The brain learns to appreciate aesthetic properties in potential mates/enemies/poisonous frogs, and overtime the aesthetic appreciation spirals completely out of fucking control and you get the Louvre. Well I guess it’s not that out of control (not art, the going to Bangkok thing), my sameday connection just never came through. So I got the nextday connection and chicken on a stick. They gave me chickenflavorcoated peanuts on the airplane. Probably not vegan friendly but (like I care and) ohmyfuckinggod were they good. I have the d50 here but I haven’t had a chance to upload any photos yet. Sorry bout.
Anyway. I just flew in here from Bali. Bali is persistant. The heat is persistant, the humidity is persistant, the flies, the hawkers, the youwanttransportboss? guys. It’s all persistant. I met some cool kids though; and I guess that’s what you do when you travel alone: you don’t. A nigga do what he don’t do(?). I met a Canadian kid who’s down for project pat, a Swedish girl whose friend is dating that guy from Teddybears Stockholm who does the youcantaketheskinnygirlcauseIwantthefatone, and a bunch of Indonesian kids that say things like long hair, long life, long banana, happy wife. The kids on Gili Trawangan were fucking bonkers. Fried rice with an egg on top and shrimp chips and cucumber and a tomato costs seventy cents. And the surfing is EPIC which you only care about if you surf and then you already know. And what else.
Clouds, they have really tall clouds in Bali. You don’t believe me but it’s true. I am a spider and you are the white, billowing Sears Tower.
I watched Entourage for three days.
The dogs. They really need to start some humanitarian fixallthefuckingbalinesedogs campaign. All these dogs do is fuck and beg and get hit by cars. There are no dogs on Gili Trawangan, but their absense blows the persistantcat population out of control.
Plus it sucks that Kurt Vonnegut died. I read Breakfast of Champions in Bali, and two Stephen Kings and a Michael Crichton and now a Dan Brown. You can’t help but read trash on the road. Sphere sucked. It’s definitely no Jurassic park. Little cardboard characters and interesting unexplored plot ideas. Like develop the controlling your own thoughts thing; Jesus. The Dan Brown is similar, it’s like they’re so stoked on compiling all of this real live science and real live technology that they forget to make me actually give a fuck. Vonnegut and King of course delivered. Plus I’ve been daydreaming about the magnetic monopole. Shit gets weird I guess.
UM. What else. The thing is that I’ve been away from the internet. I have it on my phone, but I have absolutely no idea how much it costs, so it’s probably best not to load 80megs of lovebryan and come home to a $26k phone bill. But I swear to god I had a lot of shit to say and now I forgot. OOPS. Okay. I’m going to go to wamu.com and what hole I’m pooring money into.
Here’s a list of places you absolutely need to go to if you’re in the general area. Jerry’s at Dreamland: $4 closet to sleep in, fuckyeah; coolest motherfucker in all of Indonesia(?) I have photos. Rudy’s on Gili Trawangan. Get offered amphetamines and told in perfect depressing deadpan “Oh, I come from Canada, I live behind a mountain, I have many cows.”
Okay kids. Have fun at Morning Benders. More from Austria.