1999 Notebook: Interval XVIII

12 June 1999
Tony's Mystery Cake
The waiter at Patti's Pattaya Boom-Boom Pom-Pom Palace brought Tony a piece of cake, of all things. This led to a long exchange--in high harmonic Thai--between Tony and the waiter.

I asked Tony what was going on, but he was nearly as confused as I was.

"Someone somewhere in this sleazy bar sent me a piece of wedding cake. I think. The waiter has no idea what's going on, and neither do I. This sort of thing happens all the time here. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

So I didn't.

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13 June 1999
Embassy Kara Not OK
The taxi driver gave me a small brochure from "Embassy Kara OK." The cover of the pamphlet shows a couple of teenageish girls above the caption, "Happy with your meaningful drink in the non-finite happiness night." Inside, there's an underexposed photograph of ten bottles of beer, whisky, brandy, cognac, et cetera. Below the image are the words, "Zipping and enjoying with varieties of alcoholic drinks among your angles."

The people at the ad agency that came up with the Thai tourism tag line "Amazing Thailand" certainly knew what they were talking about; that's more than I can say for the Embassy Kara OK.

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14 June 1999
Two Thailand Views
I'm getting further away from Thailand by nine hundred kilometers every hour, but my stomach's still full of yummy Thai food and tasty Thai beer, my liver's full of cheap Thai whiskey and malaria pills, and my mind's full of exotic Thai memories. Yummy yummy yummy!

I don't know what's come over me, but I can't resist the urge to make another piece of bad conceptual art. Two Thailand Views it is. It's available in the PDF format; check out the PDF technical bits if you need to know about the PDF technical bits.

15 June 1999
Pterodactyl Over Siam
I'm ten thousand meters over the Gulf of Siam, breathing the very same molecules the pterodactyls breathed. I wish I was a pterodactyl gliding ten thousand meters over the Gulf of Siam, with a burning back, icy belly, and lungs full of hot, wet-meat air. I'd rise on an updraft of pain, plunge into an undercurrent of hunger, and soar with thick bones until darkness.

16 June 1999
Appropriated Dark Methodology
I do my best work out of the light. That's not exactly, completely true; I stole the wording from the man who's not Bradley.

Thanks, pal!

17 June 1999
Wil-Ma and Me
I won't be alone tonight; I won't be alone for quite some time. I'm with Wil-Ma.

I'm not sure exactly where Wil-Ma and I met. I think it must have been in the slums of Poi Pet, Cambodia, a couple of weeks ago.

I remember that I didn't remember much at the time. About all I really remember is the mud--mud everywhere. That must have been where I met Wil-Ma, although I really can't say with any certainty.

I named Wil-Ma after Wilma Flintstone, since Wil-Ma's undoubtedly quite prehistoric. I think I'd be neither misogynistic nor inaccurate in describing Wil-Ma as a parasite, for that's what she certainly is.

Wil-Ma is, in fact, a worm. Wil-Ma the worm.

Wil-Ma no longer lives in the Poi Pet slums. She received a first-class upgrade (relatively speaking) in the lottery of life, and now enjoys traveling from continent to continent in her new home, my left foot.

Why me, and why my left foot? It could have been fate, magic, or destiny; maybe Wil-Ma was just struck by my relatively exotic pasty Caucasian-mostly appearance. As with most relationships, though, I suppose Wil-Ma's attraction to me had more to do with opportunism and pragmatism than anything else.

I can see that Wil-Ma entered me through a leech hole in the instep of my left foot. I hope there's no truth in the saying, "the way to a man's heart is through his leech hole." No, I'm sure Wil-Ma's not like that that at all.

I figure if you can't trust the worm with whom you're intimately involved, well, life's not worth living.

Wil-Ma's pleasant company; we go everywhere together. I don't like the model of the inseparable couple, but my relationship with Wil-Ma seems healthy, refreshing even. Everyone knows about couples united only at the groin, but united at the left foot? Well, that's something else.

Wil-Ma's very quiet; she's spent the last week exploring the instep of my left foot. She's left a lovely abstract pattern on my foot I quite like. My only fear is that the abstract squiggles are Cambodian for "I want to go home now."

Beats me; these trans-cultural relationships are fraught with difficulties.

18 June 1999
Wine Odds
I read that the top five percent of wine-tasting palates are two hundred times more perceptive than the bottom five percent, i.e., mine. I feel sorry for the top five percenters. Not only are they two hundred more times unlikely to enjoy a given bottle of wine, I calculate that they're one thousand seven hundred and eighty three times less likely to enjoy a bottle of cheap wine. I like walking into a wine shop with the odds in my favor.

19 June 1999
Peccadilloes, Ho!
I have a flock of peccadilloes grazing in the netherpasture behind the lab. They're vicious, ungrateful creatures that would just as soon gobble your niblets off as look at you, but I don't care. My peccadilloes have rescued me from so many boring situations that I've lost count of the actual number.

Peccadilloes, ho!

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20 June 1999
Jyothi Kanics (snaportrait)
Jyothi is a friend of mine.

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©1999 David Glenn Rinehart