Climaxing by the river with a cup of joe

Enjoying a relatively quiet morning at Climax Coffee by the river. I had a coffee shake. I usually prefer to climax in the evening before bed, but these days I'll take it when I can get it. Even though I finished my shake a while ago, I'm still waiting to orgasm. Oh, come on! What else does the word climax imply? The fourth definition on dictionary.com simply states 'an orgasm' so I don't think my mind is too off track. It's an interesting name for a coffee shop, to say the least.

My moto is in the shop. I asked the guy in bungled Khmer to check everything. He said it would take four hours and cost five bucks. Four hours! Five bucks! Of course, that's not including the oil change, the new headlight or the price to fix the rear brake. But whatever it takes as I'm planning an excursion early in the new year and I'd prefer not to break down. After a year of zero income and an exorbitant amount of travel, I'm planning on starting 2013 with another little journey. And then, get serious. Yeah.

The plan, at the moment, is to take the moto to Phnom Penh, stay a couple nights and then head to Sihanoukville, the beach, stay for a few nights and then return to Siem Reap, stopping somewhere along the way. It's approximately 315 kilometers to Phnom Penh and an additional 230 kilometers to the beach. Of course, this journey is best done with friends, but nobody is ever free when I am and I can't wait forever. So, I think, but I'm not 100% committed, that I will leave early on the 2nd of January and meet some friends later that afternoon in Phnom Penh who will be traveling by minivan.

Not a perfect plan, but life ain't perfect. Can't wait forever and when I have time I have to jump at the opportunity. At least that's the way I look at it. Anyway, there are too many mosquitos in Climax Coffee. Perhaps that is their way of pushing out customers. Some turn the air conditioning on high, some look at you funny and others just let in the mosquitos. I must have killed a dozen mosquitos already today. Mostly with my electrified zapper, but most recently Karate Kid style. Not with chopsticks, but with a mechanical arm style grab. I, however, crushed the 'prize.'

Some random thoughts. Why do some people seem to like every single fucking comment on Facebook? That's annoying. Only like those that are original, witty or perhaps complimentary in nature. You can't just like anything. A clear example of brown-nosing. And then there are those people that post a status or a picture and like all of their posts. Clearly in a delusional world of their own. Liking your own stuff is warranted on occasion. Other than that, it's abusive and you should be banned from Facebook. Or your 'friends' should unfriend you. There should be rules for this.

At the gym this morning, otherwise known as the sauna by the crocodile farm, I had a pretty good workout. My shoulders seem to be hurting less than usual, perhaps thanks to some advice from a Khmer bodybuilder and the Japanese trainer. Most of the other guys, usually shirtless and ripped, I have found to be good people. Far less ego-inflated than the dudes frequenting the gyms back home. Of course there is still the occasional pud giving free, unwelcome advice such as correct abdominal technique coming from a guy with a flabby belly. Kind of like taking financial advice from a bum. Thanks, but fuck off.

It's time to urinate. I've been fending off the urge for nearly an hour now. Besides, it's getting hot in here and I'm not taking off all my clothes. And it's past twelve and I've yet to eat breakfast. So, as usual my stomach is leading the way to a place unknown, but not far away. Take care, until next time, thanks for reading, have a nice weekend and Happy New Year. 

Idiots on Skype in public places

Forgot my headphones this morning. Mistake. Now I'm forced to listen to this boner chatting away on Skype on the other side of the 'fishbowl' at Common Grounds. Shut the fuck up. Lack of consideration is perhaps the biggest problem I have with people outside of their physical appearance. Joking, sort of, but I'm working on that. The green tea is tasting a little funny this morning. I've tried adding some sugar and a little milk too, but nothing works. Who drinks green tea with milk anyway? Maybe it's cause I'm drinking hot tea while the air con is blasting cold air all over my business. A contradiction, kind of.

Lukewarm tea is some nasty shit. Hard to swallow. Kind of like eating bananas. At least that big ass chocolate chip cookie was delicious otherwise I'd be throwing a fit right now. I didn't even want the cookie, but they were out of cinnamon rolls. I'm trying to branch out these days. The Skyping moron in the corner continues babbling on about investing in this business and how he'll be in Singapore next week to talk in person. I don't want to know anyone's personal affairs, let alone how much he's investing and what degree of decision-making authority he will have.

This other guy on the far wall facing me is going about his business the way he should be. Quietly. He stares into his computer and is otherwise invisible. The guy in the middle of the room is less conspicuous wearing a tank top in such a falsely-cooled environment. He also keeps sniffing and is probably regretting his decision to wear such attire to the cafe this morning. The guy to my left is also quite quiet. I respect that. He gave a nod of acknowledgment as I sat down and that's it. Perfect. The lady to my right has pulled her table away from the others to such a degree she is practically demanding attention. For this, I disliked her immediately. She also seems to be rather angry and I am trying to avoid eye contact at all costs.

It's funny. I know when I'm judging like this, it's usually me who needs the attitude adjustment. I am out of whack, I've been out of sync with normalcy now for about a week. Can't eat anything without getting bloated, having stomach cramps and I generally feel like poo. Go figure since my plumbing is all jacked up. I actually have started feeling like I have a tumor in my colon as my digestive system has seemingly come to a grinding halt. Highly disturbing to think like this, but I can't help it cause my body is in such a funk. I'd like an ultrasound to prove myself wrong. Put myself at ease. And then maybe go on a fasting regimen to restore order. My body hates chaos and the inner turmoil is too much right now.

Back to the Skyping fuckbag. So, let me get this straight. We're expanding to Laos and Burma by 2016. And Malaysia and Singapore by 2017. Ok. Ok, fantastic. Can't handle it. Not because he's pretending to be somebody, but because we're forced to listen to him ramble on. Everyone else seems ok with it, but I keep looking around shifty eyed trying to get someone on my side. Someone who will stand up to this man and break his black-rimmed hipster glasses over his nose and shove them down this raspy throat. I just like peace and quiet. I can't help it. I come to a cafe to get away from the noise and here I am listening to it. And I can't get away!

It's ok, really. I'll survive. But if I see this guy out on the mean streets of Siem Reap later this afternoon, while this memory is still fresh, I might give him a sidelong glance and whisper douche bag under my breath. That's how aggressive I get. I'm missing my mustache at this moment. I feel like my glares would take on more meaning. But alas, that would take me another fifty painful days to get it back. Fifty days of anguish. I guess I'm ok without the mustache. I'll just eat another cookie instead.

The look I was giving, impressive I know.

Life in the wild, meditation and chocolate chip cookies

Monday morning. I feel weak. Trying to get going, but I don’t know where to go. There is no sense of urgency other than when I feel the bloat in my bowels that came from someone’s dirty finger last night. I only had fried mixed vegetables with a scattering of cashews, which, by the way, did not hit the spot. I managed to make it home without procuring a bag of cookies, perhaps only because I felt like my stomach was still expanding. Turns out my friend’s meal was a little more toxic than mine. He spent the night in the hospital with diarrhea on IV fluid.

This morning, I had my first meditation session in what feels like months. It lasted a mere 20 minutes and even then I peeked at the clock once or twice. It’s a start, but definitely a poor one at that. Felt like I was sleeping for half of it. Breathe in the white light…love, kindness, compassion, patience and breathe out the blackness… anger, hatred, jealousy, impatience. Sometimes I don’t have enough breath in me to remember exactly what I’m breathing in and out.

I shaved my chest hair yesterday. I seem to do that every couple of years. Get bored looking at the same old thing. Unfortunately, I nicked my nipples in the process and they’re slightly irritated. Probably not the wisest decision to use a fresh Mach 3 razor when you’re shaving the hairs off your breasts. Now I feel slightly embarrassed to have such a bare chest, but I’ll probably feel at home in the gym. Until tomorrow…

The highlight of my morning, most mornings in fact, was entering my bathroom and hearing the zap zap zap from my mosquito racket as I connected with one of those bastards. They enter through the gaps in the wall fan, which when not on, allows for easily accessibility. I feel a bit strange talking to myself when I kill one.  Gotcha motherfucker! I didn’t kill a thing for months after my Buddhist meditation retreat earlier this year, but waking with itchy ankles and about five mosquitos swarming in the bathroom has changed me.

I even noticed that the daddy longlegs got some breakfast this morning. I don’t bother him up on the ledge near the fan. He’s near the shower, but high enough that he never gets wet. A mosquito got caught in his expanding web and I stopped my own business to watch his. One leg holding the mosquito and another madly tying him up. Then he’d stop, smell the mosquito’s bottom and start tying him up even more. Then he’d stop again and smell or perhaps nibble on his head. Life in the wild must be pretty, uh, wild.

Problem with living in the wild, it’d be pretty hard to procure oneself some chocolate chip cookies. And where could you stop to check email without wondering if some other fucker was going to pounce on you? It’d be a pretty hard existence. Get all sunburned and then try to either find a) a tube of aloe vera, b) an aloe vera plant growing in the wild, c) a female companion to help ease the pain or d) a cave to cry in. I’m kind of glad I don’t have to worry about getting caught in someone else’s web, to be quite honest.

Speaking of cookies has got me all hungry. I’d much prefer to eat something healthy, but most places with a cheap plate of fried rice don’t have free wifi. Nor do they have air conditioning or a comfortable place to call home for a couple hours. So I go to the cafe where the cheapest menu option is the croissant, but I’m not French so I opt for the second cheapest option, the cookies. Crunchy and delicious, the cookie monster in me is glad they don’t come in a bottomless bag otherwise I’d probably eat at least a dozen before my stomach signals my brain that I’m full. I try to balance it out with a pot of green tea.

Time to suit up and get out on the track before the sun starts setting. Yawn. Otherwise I’ll lie in bed a few more hours. And as tempting as that sounds, it’s just not that tempting without another body in it. So off I go into the bright sun’s rays to combat another day in the wild fending off predators and looking for prey. Eyes shifting left then right and then down to avoid the cars, motos and potholes. Quickly glancing the food carts to see if what’s in them stimulates any digestive juices. If not, carry on. 

Red pianos, magic dragons and whipped cream

Puff the Magic Dragon is playing in the distance. Sounds like someone is singing karaoke because it is a poor rendition. Rather odd since this is Cambodia, but I am in the heart of the tourist center after all. At a place full of more tourists at times than perhaps any other place in Siem Reap other than say Angkor Wat or Temple Bar, this city's prime attractions. I am at The Red Piano, which is rather empty at the moment, but I am enjoying the relative peace & quiet. I can dig it. The first time I've ever set foot in this establishment and it's nice to know there actually is a red piano on the second floor. The food was ok. I overdosed on salt, pepper and chili sauce in my double omelet baguette sandwich and washed it down with a tiny cup of coffee and a nasty coconut cookie.

Today is a celebratory day of sorts. Last night I shaved my mustache. It was day 53. It was holding me back from reaching my full potential, too sweaty and too reminiscent of whiskers than a mustache ought to be. It's a bit sad, but I feel rejuvenated, especially after my two dollar haircut this morning. A bit like having an ice cold beer after a hard day's work. A shower after a hot, sweaty day working in the sun. Sex after a long dry spell. Cutting and cleaning your toenails. Popping an irritating boil. Eating a ripe, juicy mango after days of stale, cold lumpy white rice. Sleeping on a bed after days camping on lumpy soil. Seeing a real woman in a crowd of ladyboys. They still exist!

Don't know what to do with myself today. Second day off in a row. But we are filming for a few more days, back at it in the morning. So that being said, I have to go to the orphanage and clean up the location for tomorrow morning's shoot, which will most certainly be destroyed by kids highly trained in the art of destruction. Give them anything and it is almost guaranteed to be broken, missing or defunct within 24 hours. That's why I don't give them anything anymore. I swear, if I gave them a bicycle, it would be fucked up the next day. If I gave them clothes, they would be torn or missing. It is extremely frustrating and despite all the pleading to take care or don't touch or please keep, these pleas seemingly go in one ear and out the other.

So, when I feel giving, I tend to give only food or drink and let their digestive systems ruin it. It's amazing how fast a bag of cookies disappears. Oh wait, I'm talking about myself. But seriously, something different and delicious gets consumed faster than you can holy shitballs! Naturally, it's a fight for survival. I can only imagine my Mom growing up in a household of twelve kids and fighting for an extra spoonful of beans or a slightly bigger scoop of ice cream. I remember always wanting more than the next guy and especially more than my brother and sister. It's my competitive nature. I was Mr. More as I child, as I am often reminded.

Time to go get a needle in my chest. One last keloid injection. And some papaya. And some Vitamin D. And then it'll be time to sweat it up at the orphanage and give it the Midas touch. Or at least like squirting a little whipped cream on some dog shit. Hard to convert a Pinto into a Porsche. I won't miss the flies when this is all said and done, but I will miss the kids. They deserve better. 

Day 48: getting my razor ready

December 5, 2012. Day 48 of the mustache. I think I will make it to day 50 and call it a day. I'm tired of having this itchy mess above my lip and looking like a creep. In all actuality, I am only keeping it because I don't know if my role in the film is finished. I am a bad man in the movie, a violent sex tourist and pedophile. How did I agree to that one? Do you want to see my monkeys? I hope this won't affect my run for the presidency in a few years.

In other news, I have an itchy throat. And I'm wearing purple and gray striped socks. First time in months I've worn long socks. It's like wearing flip flops for too long and shoes actually feel good. Same same. Besides, I bought these socks in India and have never worn them. It's time to get my dollar's worth. I think the Japanese green tea was good for my throat. I'm not sure about the chocolate chip cookies. They were good though. Thank goodness there were only five otherwise I'd still be eating.

Listening to fun. at the moment. I think they've pretty much blown up, but if you've yet to hear of them, take a listen. Modern day version of Queen. Aside from that, what else is new? We're in the midst of filming A Cambodian Winter, which is an interesting experience to say the least. Check it on Facebook if you're curious. Today is a day off or a half day off, I'm not really sure. I'm taking advantage of the free time cause most days are from 10am to midnight. Of course there is a lot of down time, but I generally have to be at the ready and can't be sitting in front of my MacBook in the middle of a rice field.

The year is almost over. I'm trying to stay present, but thoughts of the future are creeping in. I don't think I'll be in Cambodia for 2013, but we all know anything can happen. Starting to think about Bangkok or Hanoi and see how my gut responds. So far, it's saying mmmmmm to both Thai and Vietnamese food. You can't go wrong either way. Still don't know what I'd do in either place, but as I typically do, I'll probably figure it out when I get there.

Well, my bladder is saying get the fuck outta this cafe, but I'm still here and not quite ambitious enough to get up. Not quite sure what to do next. I guess I'll post a picture and get the hell on out of here. This pic was from a couple weeks ago. Transporting banana trees on the back of my moto, Cambodian style. From my friend's house to the orphanage. Making it look good or at least more interesting for the film. Art direction. The tree was a dollar and I was told it was too expensive. Whatever.

Top 5 love/hates for Monday, 19 Nov 2012

Let me start with the today's top hates. Get it over with so I can end on a positive note. They are not in any particular order other than the order in which they arise in my head.

1. Fucking flies. Not just those engaged in pleasures of the flesh, but all of those dirty motherfuckers. Especially those that are breeding and making fly babies. My hatred is especially intense when I have open sores and they are laying eggs in them. Too quick to kill unless you are the Karate Kid and that I am not.

2. Leg zits. What the fuck? Am I thirteen? Just put them on my face for fuck's sake. The last thing I need is spots on my leg, for some reason mostly on my left leg. Do I not scrub as hard with my right hand? I know it's hot and humid in Cambodia and even more so under the loins and in the hot sun, but still, sweating through multiple t-shirts on a daily basis is bad enough.

3. Waiting. I'm always waiting for some motherfucker. Even though you're not a motherfucker in real life, when I'm waiting for you, you are. I just hate waiting. Five minutes is not a problem, but fifteen or twenty minutes and I'm tapping my toes and verbally insulting you. Sometimes you might even be a mother fucking bastard, depends on my mood and how long I've been waiting.

4. People who don't respond to text messages. Now I don't really hate the individual, it's more the carelessness or the inconsideration of the individual. I know some people are busy and some text messages don't warrant a response. I'm not talking about those circumstances. I'm talking about sending a message that deserves a reply to a guy sitting at home masturbating to porn on his laptop. Annoying.

5. Repeating myself three times. I intentionally speak slower to the right audience. And use simple English when needed or speak like a goddamn pigeon. I really don't know the difference. That's not a problem. I actually expect to repeat myself. But when the person who should get it, still doesn't get it, that bothers me and I lose my shit a little. Fortunately, not into my pants.

And now for the loves. When I was a kid and I was angry I used to inevitably start off any given sentence with I hate him! or I hate brussel sprouts! To which my Mom always responded, You don't hate. And I'd usually counter back Yes, I do! And I do admit, to this day, I am still a hater, but I try to balance the love and hate, to some degree. So, here are the five loves of today - hope they won't all be related to food. 

1. My new motorbike. I guess it's technically a motorcycle since it has a clutch, but it's so small and is only 110cc so motorbike seems more appropriate. Anyway, I don't know if I love the bike or love the fact that I finally got one. Way way overdue and now I can finally rest my groin from pushing too many pedals. I also love the process of getting it into tip top shape, from spending a few dollars here for this and a few for that. Slowly but surely I'll feel confident riding a clutch in stop and go traffic.

2. A good, ripe mango. Not all ripe mangoes are created equal, but when you get a good one you are absorbed into that moment. It also helps when it's mango season and they're extra cheap. Not much else to be said here.

3. An early morning gym session. I'm not talking 5 in the morning, that's madness. More like 7 or 8. That's early morning to me. I felt like crap this morning, but still went through the motions. It helps that my gym is only 50 cents a visit, the guys who frequent it in the morning are pretty cool and it's a mere 5 minutes away by bike. It also helps that it's a lot cooler in the morning and I don't need to sweat through my shirt and towel and drink a whole 1.5 liter bottle of water.

4. The service at the restaurant last night. First off, the lady made up a special table for one because there were none available. Then came the free bottle of water with dinner, free popcorn, a delicious meal and three waitresses asking me if I wanted more rice, which was also free. Restaurant was packed out yet they were all still on it.

5. Ingenuity. I saw a couple examples of this today, pictures of which should be posted below provided I didn't forget to upload them after typing the next couple sentences. There is a lot of resourcefulness in southeast Asia, stuff that most people back home wouldn't conceive of doing because they would just buy a new one. Whenever I see stuff like that, I'm intrigued by it. Another example not shown here would be a busted hammock sewn up in different colors. Looks cool and you're saving money.

Why not? Fix up the scissors with a bit of wire. Good as new. 

At a motorcycle repair shop. Flowers planted in an empty coconut shell, which are sitting in an old motorcycle tire, which is hanging by an old chain. I want it.

Spider bites, keloid injections and necrotic toe tissue

Let's keep this brief and I'm not talking about underwear. I'm tired and my body is in distress. Therefore, this body needs additional sleep to combat the forces that are conspiring against it. First of all, that fucking spider. I have no proof they are actually spider bites, but I can assure they are not from mosquitoes. The itch on my belly, despite the frequent applications of hydrocortisone, has not subsided. The ones on my knees are also still painful even five days later. Squeezing and extracting pus has been a recurring event in my life the past couple of days. I kind of like it, but I think eventually the novelty will wear off. Left knee pictured below.

Right knee has two bites, each of which seemingly didn't fare as bad as the left knee bite. Pic below for your viewing pleasure.

And finally, let me show you my toe. My second big toe on my right foot to be exact. It must have been at least two weeks ago now when I stubbed it in the middle of the night and drew blood. And then spent hours at the orphanage standing in mud or foul water up to my mid-calf while painting the walls. I was worried about that, but doused it in iodine or put some antibiotic lotion on it in the evenings hoping that would suffice. Apparently not. The wound is still festering and now I'm putting hydrogen peroxide on it. The pic below shows it healing on the left, albeit slightly and fizzing up on the right immediately after contact with the peroxide. Yum!

That's all I got for you at the moment. I could go on and on about the redness around my neck and face caused by a combination of excess sun exposure and ineffective suntan lotion. Or the itchiness on my back, especially around certain moles. I'm pretty sure that's due to excess UV exposure. I'm certainly not going around bare-chested so clearly the sun is getting through the less than protective fibers of my shirt. Got to rethink that as itchy moles do not sit well with me.

And then there is the keloid on my chest. Two of them. Getting all big and swollen. Red in color and occasionally itchy, there is little to do about these bastards, but occasionally get an injection. Not really sure exactly what the medicine is, but suffice it to say, getting an injection, wait, two injections, in the middle of one's chest and filling up the keloid with medicine is not a comfortable feeling. It is, however, rather inexpensive and eventually worth it so I figured might as well have my whole body out of order at the same time. Unfortunately, I do not have pics of that. I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll do better next time.

Food in Cambodia

I would have entitled this one Cambodian Food if I was about to talk about lok lak, fried tarantulas, sticky rice, bok la hong (papaya salad) or perhaps Khmer curry. Instead I'm going to talk, briefly, about the food I'm eating in Cambodia, none of which I suppose is really Cambodian in origin. I'm eating far more than just what's in the picture, but I don't feel like snapping pictures of all my meals and more often than not, the food is not that presentable or the lighting is inadequate for a decent shot.

Clockwise from upper left you see

1) A mango shake. Usually $1, but currently being promoted for only 50 cents at McBuddha, one of the best outdoor restaurants on the street leading to Artisans d'Angkor across from Terrasse des Elephants Hotel. At 50 cents, a steal. For $1, still a deal. Ice-blended presumably with sweetened condensed milk.

2) A coffee shake. Always 50 cents at a dive restaurant on Sok San Road. Too many flies at this place to really enjoy the environment, but it's cheap and delicious.

3) Omelet with baguette turned into omelet sandwich for $1 at the aforementioned dive restaurant. The long porous baguette really makes you feel like you're getting your money's worth. Layer the bread with the accompanied slices of cucumber, onion and tomato, add some pepper, a dribble of soy sauce and a generous squirt of chili sauce, use the knife to jam it all in, cut it into two pieces and watch out for the little cat with docked tail who will take advantage if given the opportunity.

4) Fried rice with tofu. This is perhaps the largest portion of fried rice I've entertained in Siem Reap. And the cheapest. Only 5000 riel ($1.25) at McBuddha, also home to numerous delectable fruit shakes. The fried rice comes with an abundance of tofu, pineapple, various vegetables and is topped with a fried egg. Food here is served on spotless white plates and owners and staff are quite friendly.

5) Green Salad. This is as touristy I get. On occasion I'll drop into Le Tigre de Papier on Pub Street, but usually in the afternoon when it's not brimming with customers. $1.75 for a large green salad topped with thinly sliced tomatoes and some delicious bread on the side, which is perfect for mopping up the excess balsamic dressing.

Coming soon...a post on Cambodian street food or at least the street food that I like and eat on a semi-regular basis. And perhaps more cheap eats from other restaurants in town. Until then, happy eating.

Flat tires, toe infections and oatmeal cookies

I woke up this morning with a dry mouth and a mustache. And my front bike tire was flat. Sweet. This was coming after an evening when I got my phone stolen. And ten hours at the orphanage stepping on nails, getting electrocuted and absorbing way too much Vitamin D. The mustache is coming in nicely, I might add. Nicely for me. The hairs are getting longer and filling in the gaps and I think she might be visible from afar. I also woke up with a few new mosquito bites and a couple spider bites. Those are always nice. Itch differently and swell accordingly.

Overall however, my day was fine. Just busy. I got a new phone and I must say a cheap phone was all I ever needed. I don't need to be taking shitty pictures with an over-glorified camera phone and I hardly ever listened to the music I had on there. Internet access from my phone was also something I never really needed. I didn't need to see what was happening on Facebook from the cafe or before I went to sleep or when I was bored and wanted to appear busy. So that frees up a few minutes a day and eliminates one of my bad habits.

Now, I'm in an air-conditioned fishbowl sipping on an iced coffee and eating some oatmeal cookies. Unfortunately, the most annoying couple is skyping away next to me and no matter how much sugar syrup I add to my coffee, it still leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Shut the fuck up. People need to know what is acceptable and what is not. Skyping out of necessity for a few minutes is okay, but doing it every fucking time you go to the coffee shop is taking liberties. I think this is the same couple who were praising Jesus over the internets the last time I was here.

Now they've shut up. They must have heard me muttering under my breath. I got oatmeal stuck between my teeth. The infection on my right toe, next to the big one, seems to be contained. I knew stepping in the mud and putrid water at the orphanage might be problematic day after day, especially after stubbing my toe and opening a flesh wound. Something obviously got in there, but pouring a bit of hydrogen peroxide on the infestation gives me a moment of relief as the wound quickly turns white and bubbles, which I view as a positive sign. It doesn't seem to itch anymore.

I needed this little moment of respite. My t-shirt is not clinging to my chest for a minute. My mosquito and spider bites aren't itching as much. The iced coffee has not made me delirious as usual. I need a green salad. Some nutrition. Some raw vegetables. A chimney sweep of the intestines. In other words. Sorry you had to know that. Too much rice, I guess. That's what everyone keeps saying. I think I'm going to go buy a motorcycle. I need motorized wheels. My bicycle is great for short distance travel, but my legs are tired. And so is my ass. Too much pedaling and frying under the great rays of the sun. I am way overdue to feel the wind in my face again. I miss it.

But despite all of the above, things are good. I'm not complaining despite what has happened, what is happening and what might happen. I'm busy and have no time for drinking, going out and being an idiot. Drinking more fruit shakes and coconuts and going to bed earlier even though I still sleep like a baby with a mess in his diaper. It's either too hot, I ate too much too late, I can't clear my mind or I don't have a warm body to spoon, which I assume to be the cause of my sleep deprivation. Somehow I slowly put myself together in the morning and get on my with day and the cycle typically repeats itself. I'm crying out for pity here!

Ok, thanks for your shoulder. I'm better now. I've absorbed enough air-conditioning to be comfortable outside for at least three minutes. Getting antsy for some greens and some water to dilute the coffee that's running wild through my veins. Don't worry about me. I'll survive. Time to pay up, saddle up and get the hell on outta here. Be productive. Until next time. I miss you already.

White Russians with Mustaches and Conjunctivitis

Today was a good day despite the excess sun and the irritable eye. I got a little red thanks to the tank top and lack of sunscreen, but at least I didn’t have to wear that oily shit that makes me even hotter. Saved a few dimes as well. The eye has been a bit beefy the past couple of days. My right eye. Happened a bit over a year ago as well. Felt like my eyelid turned into a big piece of salami. Friend says it’s probably conjunctivitis whatever that is. I’ll just go with that. I bought some antibiotic eye drops and have been icing it, hope that does the trick.

Drinking my second White Russian at the moment. Can’t stop chewing up my ice. People say that’s due to sexual frustration, which I won’t argue, but add that it’s probably due to ingrained habits as well. I love a sweet buzz. I’m not a racist, but I do prefer White Russians to Black Russians. Something about the creamy texture sliding down my throat. Not that creamy texture. And I don’t really love Coke even though I do partake in it on occasion despite not drinking that shit for nearly 18 years. Honest.

Listening to Gregory Alan Isakov. Shit is good. I do need some new music though. Feeling a little behind the times and lacking the initiative to find out new, good music on my own. So send me some new tunes and make me feel up-to-date. Despite not being in tune with what’s hot in the music world, I do feel pretty good these days. I’m busy, that’s a start. Helping a friend make a movie that’s due to shoot in approximately one week. Gathering props, helping cast, location scout and art directing an important location in the film. Enough about that.

I’m getting to the gym fairly regularly. Getting to know the regular meatheads and despite all their flexing and posturing in front of the mirror, they’re not all that bad. All four of us in the gym this morning were doing biceps in front of the mirror at the same time. I was the only shirtless one, but all of us plenty vain nonetheless. I was jealous of their abs and I like to pretend they were jealous of my height and teeth. What else do I have? I don’t really give a shit.

That second White Russian is hitting me pretty hard. I don’t need another, but I don’t like to waste anything and I still have some ice. It cost me all of twelve cents for half a kilo and I don’t want it to just go down the drain. So off I go to make cup number three. Eliminates the need for dessert I’ll tell you what. And after a fantastic dinner I hardly needed to attend to the needs of my sweet tooth. Some Vietnamese sour soup with fish, mango salad and morning glory washed down with some cheap draft Cambodian lager. It was delish.

What else is going on…hmmm…let me think. I found a tailor, that is indeed worth noting. She sells used clothing and also adjusts t-shirts. Fifty cents a pop, which is equivalent to what I paid the woman in my alley in Vietnam. Fantastic. So now, all of my t-shirts fit to a tee. Pardon the pun. And the guy across the street from her, who does button-ups, made my shirts fit perfectly for just a dollar. Even though he fucked up the first time, somehow he redeemed himself and adjusted them just right. Even Goldilocks would have been satisfied. So now I can comfortably buy oversized crap from Phnom Penh and feel confident these folks will make me look decent with the skills I wish I had.

Now I’m on White Russian number three. Totally unnecessary. You should see the ants on my counter. I guess I spilled a drop of Kahlua. Fucked ‘em up with a few blasts of Raid. I hate using that shit, but I hate ants even more. Especially red ants. Those bastards bite like mother fuckers and the pain subsists longer than you’d imagine. No problem killing those little fuckers. Them and mosquitos. I used to feel semi-Buddhist, but now, I can’t cohabitate. Got my mosquito zapper that poses as a tennis racket. Totally fools those ignorant bastards. Makes ‘em think I’m just going to practice my back swing when in fact I’m fucking the shit outta them.

It really does make my place an easier place to live. Waking up with fewer mosquito bites. That’s huge. If only I had a fridge and a motorcycle. I’d be near heaven. I’m looking out for some cheap, secondhand options. Recently, I stayed in a guesthouse to see if I wanted to change my locations. It was nice for a minute to have a tv, wifi, bathtub and hot shower, but being on the second floor and that much hotter, I couldn’t stand it. I would have needed an air conditioner to survive, which would have nearly quadrupled my accommodation costs so I quickly negated that option. This shithole isn’t that bad after all. I just like to complain.

Life is not bad at all. I get to see the cutest orphans nearly every day. I’m riding my bike too much. Is that really that bad? I’m getting to know people, expats, ladyboys, prostitutes, street kids, anyone and everyone and nobody is really that bad except when I’m in one my moods when everyone is annoying. I often complain about the sun’s presence, but it sure is better than having her disappear and not know when she will return. That is harder to bear. I like the warmth she provides.

I forgot I put mustaches in the title of this blog post. Yes, I am on day 15 of my current mustache. It is fairly embarrassing, but fortunately Khmer women find any white male attractive despite the facial hair, obesity, age or nerd factor. As long as you appear to have money it’s all good. Every day I’m a day closer to shaving, but I want to see how far I can go. I’m pretty sure this is a record. I’m also pretty sure some people don’t even recognize that I’m sporting a mustache. But that’s ok.

See? You can barely see it!

It’s almost time for bed. My eyes are closing. The vodka and Kahlua are having an effect. I’m surprised I’m still here after nearly three rounds. I’m normally a lightweight and would expect to be knocked out at this point. Soon, soon. My bed is beckoning that is for sure. A soft pillow awaits, I just wanted to get this out. The screen is fading in front of me, which suggests that I ought to be typing my final words, but I keep going. Unfortunately, but fortunately for you, I have nothing else to say. Thanks for reading and hope you will be here with me next time. Good night.

Sore throats and constipation

I just shaved my mustache. If you could call it that. I think I had it growing for nearly 10 days. I didn’t keep track. Anyway, it was a personal challenge of sorts to try and appear creepy and not creep out myself. To not let it make me angry. When I feel like an idiot, I get angry. Tonight I’d had enough I guess. And after a glass of Kahlua on the rocks and thinking that perhaps my love life was also on the rocks, I realized there was no reason to be growing such an abomination. I looked more like a boy who’d just hit puberty trying to look older with the few facial hairs that I actually have.

Well, that’s done. And now I’m testing my fake Beats by Dr Dre headphones. I have no idea what the real deal sounds like, but I’m pretty sure it’s not worth the extra $145. Not to me anyway. I haven’t worn headphones like these since 1987. Sitting here with a bloated belly. Love the bloat. Thanks to some fucker with a dirty finger. I hate food poisoning. First the runs and then constipation. A nasty combination. Shit happens and then it doesn’t. It’s time for some psyllium or a lethal injection, I’m not sure yet.

I’m tired of complaining. I realized that this evening. Riding my ugly yellow bicycle down my pot-holed road after unlocking the gate in the darkness. Fuck all this, sell the bike and upgrade and move into a guesthouse. I don’t know why I put up with what I do sometimes, maybe just so I have a story or something to complain about. When I was your age…blah blah blah.

I’ve got about 15 movies in the queue and the list just keeps growing. I haven’t studied Khmer in what seems like ages. I need someone with whom I can practice my skills or lack of skills is more like it. I also keep putting off the guitar purchase. I guess I don’t want to buy it and shelve it immediately. Or get into it for a week and then say I’m too busy. I know myself too well unfortunately. What else haven’t I done lately? No gym for four days, but that was beyond my control. Another reason why I’m feeling a bit soft at the moment. Seeing all these ripped Khmer men around certainly doesn’t make me aroused, but it does make me jealous. And then I go and buy another bag of cookies. My weakness.

I think I’m going to get some more moles eradicated from my body tomorrow. If time allows. I’ve had some cut and stitched, some lasered, some cut by my own fingernail clippers and some by some kind of electrolysis procedure. I’ll just call it that. Rub in some cream to reduce the pain and then run a hot needle over the mole seemingly removing the mole root by root. Didn’t hurt too much and seems to be healing well. I’ll have to see if I can negotiate an hourly rate rather than a rate per mole. I still have that many. And I’m still obsessed with getting them removed.

My throat hurts. Fuuuuuuck. That again. Sucking on a lozenge right now. Better than a dick. Maybe not to you. It’s almost time for bed, just trying to ignore the fact it’s only 10:45pm. And trying to remember I didn’t go to bed until 5:30 this morning. Kind of explains the mood and the tickle in my throat. Hoping I can learn to sleep like a baby again one day. Just lie down and pass out when I’m tired rather than from the consumption of too much alcohol. I haven’t done that in a long time, honest. The bed is calling my name, me thinks. Where’s my blankie?

Written 17 October