Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Crazy Maybe, but Not Saddam













Mel Gibson has recently been accused of being Saddam Hussein. While the resemblance is striking and they are both very hairy dudes, the matter had to be settled for once and for all. Cali Thais have researched deeper into this claim and have concluded after careful DNA analysis, retinal scans, dental records, a long string of alibies, and psychological examination that Mel Gibson is, infact, not Saddam Hussein.

Unfortunately, this doesn't clear him of being a bit crazy. It seems that he has developed a taste for dead languages - and not just the typical ones like Latin (by the way, Dubb speaks Latin... way to go buddy). I'm talking the obscure, off the wall languages that no one understands. Take the Passion of Christ, for example. Anyone in the audience understand what they are saying? Nope. Well, he is at it again with an ancient Mayan dialect. Why, one might ask, does he want to direct yet another movie that must be read rather than heard? Who knows.. Next question: why is Mel donating the movie set to Mexico when he is finished? Do they really need a bunch of two-walled house facades and a giant painted styrofoam Mayan pyramid? I thought the original stone version was nice Mel, but if you think yours is better. . . go get'em tiger.

~Bear

Monday, November 28, 2005

Last Weekend: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Bear has returned from hiatus to bring you his perspective on what was a fun-filled (though mostly in retrospect) weekend. Let's rewind to last Friday. The Dubbs and I had put forth a solid week in the office with some excellent results, so we decided we ought to have a fun night out. One of J-Dubb's friends wanted to go out with us after she got off work, so we suggested she bring a friend - she agrees.


I jump in the shower to get so fresh and so clean and the ladies arrive before I get out. I wasn't expecting them to get there so fast, so I hadn't brought any clothes into the bathroom. Clad in nothing but Tesco Lotus' (our grocery superstore) finest bathtowel, I step out of the bathroom and cross the hall to my bedroom to get dressed. But in that brief moment I looked down the hall to see who was accompanying Dubb's friend. Suddenly my big plans for a fun night out with some new friends were deflated a little as I got only the briefest of glimpses of a girl who, how do I say tactfully, was not the most attractive twenty-something year old I'd ever seen. As I was getting dressed, I thought "who cares, could still be fun. And it is always good to meet new people." With that mantra in mind, I had the right attitude and stepped fully clothed into the livingroom.... but that attitude wasn't enough to prepare me for what I saw.

As I got closer to the now well-lit living room, I realized that my eyes had previously deceived me. Sitting on our sofa chair was no mere homely looking girlfriend of Dubb's friend, but a boy named Bobby who was wearing makeup and women's clothing. Well, this night was going to be more exciting than I had thought. Awesome friend selection. Awesome.

Turns out Bobby wasn't the only friend that came along. I looked out the window to our balcony and saw that there was the silouette of another girl. Moments later she walked inside and it took a total of about 3.5 seconds for me to realize that I had about as much interest in her as I did in Bobby. She carried a scowl that screamed "look how happy I am." I would tell you her name but I can't remember it - nor did I ever know it now that I think about it. Guess that shows you how excited I was that she came along. Once again, awesome.

As we headed down for the taxi, Big J and I joked that the two boys should sit up front and the three girls should sit in the back. Unfortunately the girls-from-birth beat Dubb and I to the front seat so we had to pile in the back with good ol' Bobby. As we were climbing in, I whispered "I'm all about being your wingman tonight, but I have my limits" and climbed in by the window putting Dubb in the middle. A good portion of the way, Bobby was trying to joke around and tease us Western peeps. Nothing like a gay guy in makeup, tight jeans, a woman's coat, and a lispy Thai accent teasing you to get your Friday kickstarted into high gear.

Once we got to the club, our luck seemed to change a bit. The Greek Gods of Friday Nights woke up from their slumber and got to work. The bar required ID (except of course, if your skin is like a snowflake) and low and behold, Bobby had forgotten his. One down, one to go. We get in there and grabbed a table, ordered some food and tasty adult beverages and start to talk to the girls. For sure, J Dubb is in the clear with a fun, cool girl. I on the other hand, was not about to give my number to the bundle of joy who had come along. She looked like she was ready to either start crying or start yelling at me at any moment. Yeah, Awesome. Oh, and may I also add that she befell into the 4-4-6 category (see Dubb's post below). And those fours were because I was in a good mood. The six part (her English ability, no personality bonus involved here) actually worked to her detrament. More about that in a moment. Things are going fine, the band is playing, then a very large (to put it kindly) gay man dressed in full drag does a song on stage. Good singing, bad look. But it gets worse. He (if that is what one dressed in a purple moo-moo wearing a pink wig should be called) was then joined by the lead singer of another band for a comedy skit. Lucky us, they decided to pick on the only two white dudes in the whole club. They start talking to us from on stage and making all kinds of jokes about Americans and the two of us. How many gay dudes are we going to get to make fun of us in one night? Nothing feels quite as nice as having a whole club full of people turn to look at you and laugh - while you have no idea what it is that they are saying. Awesome.

Just to top it all off, we head back to our place for a few more drinks (oh yeah, and pensive girl doesn't drink). Suddenly, Miss shy/angry/scared/confused starts telling me about this guy she knows named Ken and how he is such a great person and she loves him so much and soon she hopes they can start dating, and on and on... and on some more. For the first time, I thought to myself - "why does she have to be able to speak English so well? I liked it more when she was too agry/shy/pensive to talk." But I figured, I need to help my cuz out and keep this one out of his hair while he is talking to his friend. So I sit and listen about this friend and how he is perfect, loves pigs and kittens, speaks Mandarin and likes the sea. Subsequently it means that this girl also loves pigs, kittens, learned to speak Mandarin, and likes the sea. Turns out this girl is absolutely obsessed with Ken. And I was wrong to assume he was some close friend she just hadn't built up the courage to tell she loved him, or even a work associate. I later realize that Ken is just a Taiwanese pop star from a band called F-4 that she saw in concert three times. She is totally enamered with this guy, and has only talked to him one time when she got his autograph. Now we refer to her as F-4, because we have no idea what her name really is.

So, in conclusion, F-4 go get-em. I'm sure you are right: Ken, the pop superstar of Taiwan, is actually waiting for you and your big smile.

~Bear

Pardon Me Sir, Where Can I Yak?


Go ahead, take a guess what this glorious invention is. How about a hint: It's too big to be used as sit down toilet, yet too low to be a sink. There's no door to enclose it. It can flush, and there's a facet connected to the side.

Well the first time I saw one of these things was in the men's restroom in a large restaurant in Bangkok. Stumped, my Thai friend explained that it was used to puke in. Tell me that's not awesome. It's a designated puke tank equipt with running water. And clever as the Thai's are, it's at the perfect height (pertched on a wee ledge) so if you bend over in normal puking fashion, your stream will be a direct hit. And it's wide enough to avoid any spillage on the sides. Why aren't these more common in Nascar tracks, fraternities, and college dorms?

Brilliant.... Sheer brilliance right here.

I didn't drink enough to try it out.

~ J-dub

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Our New Friend Puggy From Burma; Our New Rating System

Last Sunday the weather was perfect. Outside our balcony we have a perfect view of our communal tennis court in our condo complex. Looking down we noticed that the sun was shining brilliantly on the green turf below, making for perfect tanning conditions. Usually in the BKK, you wouldn't want to come anywhere near direct sunlight in midday. The intensity of the sun is fierce, and sweating balls is often inevitable. But this Sunday was different. The weather resembled San Diego more than anywhere in the tropics. So we headed down to play some tennis.

Because both Bear and I would be classified generously as novices at tennis, we always bring our lacrosse sticks down to throw around. This is so that if anyone laughs at our poor tennis skills, we can immediately stuptify their curiosity with kick ass lax skills. This is exactly how we met Puggy, a Burma native who speaks English with impecable proficiency. He saw us throwing a ball around with crazy looking sticks and was immediately intrigued. We hit it off with him right away making plenty of jokes about the Thai culture and discussing the Burmese politics and Buddism. His affable nature encouraged us to invite him to dinner. What a great idea.

Puggy promised his monk in Burma that he wouldn't drink alcohol, and when he told us this, we just assumed that this dude was a pretty straight laced kid. In fact, he is only in Thailand to visit his family for a short time before he heads to Ontario to begin studying at University. Well, Big P was true to his word and didn't touch a drop of alcohol. But that didn't stop Bear and I. Nothing crazy, since it was a Sunday, but we had a few brews in us and there was a "buy three get one free" deal for the 20oz bottles (that's a guess, btw... my Thai reading skills have a long way to go..). When we declined a second round, Puggy randomly says while taking a drag from his cigarette, "wow, I wish I could drink with you. I could drink about 24 of these bottles in a night."

"No way! There's no way," Bear and I retorted. Maybe drinking led to the nickname 'Puggy.' I didn't ask. But Bear did ask, "How long ago did you stop drinking?"

"For one month I stopped. I promised my monk that I wouldn't drink while I was here in Thailand," he responded. This immediately changed our view of the man. Maybe he wasn't as straight-edged as we originally thought.

Well, drinking among dudes enevitably leads to talking about women, and this Sunday night was no different. We explained our newly devised rating system. This clever system was a response to the problem of our phones having a variety of obscure names like, "Net, Nouch, and Ni" all in a row. Let me tell you, it is not an easy task to keep these names matched correctly to the faces. Hence our Rating System:

[NAME] (Number 1-10), (Number 1-10), (Number 1-10)

Example:

Net 7, 9, 4

The first number is for the face.
The second number is for the body.
The thrid is a combination of personality and knowledge of English.

The girl's name may or may not be followed by the location of the meeting place, depending on how many characters require entry. As in most systems, 10 is high and 1 is low. As we have seen in practice, the third number tends to produce both discussion and analysis of the number depending on the case. This is fun.

Enjoying the immediate benefits of our new system, we asked Puggy if he or his buddies ever rated girls. This was his response:

"Yes, but just one time... Well. In Burma there was a girl that was with a man but they stopped seeing each other. She had a shop near my house and everyday I would go over and see her, I was always there. You know, in Burma, people see each other in their own and don't go out. Something like this. So after a little while I took her out and we went out to dinner, yeah man? Then I took her back to my home, and I did you know... with her. She said no, no stop, but I knew that she really wanted it. You know because the next time I see her she doesn't ask she just does it. She was like close to me [motions someone getting close to his side] so I know that she likes...."

Slight pause

Bear says, "No, No, No... Rate, R..A...T...E... There is no P."

Puggy thinking

"OOOOHHHH !!! Yeah, Yeah, I know, I know rate... like the numbers" exclaimed Puggy.

We all started laughing hysterically. We told Puggy that he probably didn't want to tell people about this to anyone in Canada. Even if, you know, "this is the Burma way."

This was one of the better lost in translation stories for 'ya.

~ J-Dub

Monday, November 21, 2005

Ladies, Ladies...

Your needlessly deprived years of "physiologically based sexual dysfunction" will all but be restored when the new wonder sniff drug of PT-141 arrives at your local pharmacy. As the Daily Times of Pakistan reports, "Equal-opportunity sex drug just a sniff away."

Don't worry, both Bear and J-Dub are available. And Yes, they will make your dreams come true. Not because they are used to sniffing substances up their noses and fucking like a Rick James Disco Party, but because they believe in science and think no woman should be deprived of sexual enlightment.

Renter the 80's stage left....

.... and please, no monkeys ladies and gentlemen.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Emptor Cave !

Thanks to Local 6 for bring us this headline, "Thai Tourists Warned Of Sedative-Spitting Transvestites." Sorry Bear, looks like you're gonna have to keep your tongue in your mouth.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Bonsai Kittens


I got a chain e-mail today entitled "This is Fucked up!" from a fellow traveler I met in Budapest. The e-mail is as follows:

"FOR ANYONE WHO HAS ANY RESPECT FOR ANIMALS a site that we were able to shut last year has returned. We are trying to shut it down again!

A man in New York breeds and sells kittens that are called BONSAI CATS. That would sound cute if they weren't kittens, only days old, that were squeezed into tiny bottles after being given a tranquiliser, then kept there for the rest of their lives so they can be put on a mantelpiece to be poked and laughed at. The cats are fed through a straw and their faces struggle to reach up the neck of the bottle where there's a tiny airhole. They are treated like absolute shit. The skeleton of the kitten will take on the form of the bottle as the kitten grows. The cats never get the opportunity to move apart from the first few days they are alive with their mother. These 'ornaments' are sold cheaply and used as souvenirs. They are the latest trends in New York, China, Indonesia and New Zealand.

If you're still not convinced PLEASE LOOK ON http://www.bonsaikitten.com/Please help to stop this sickness. Spare a thought for them today. This petition needs 1000 names, so please put your one name on it! Copy the text into a new email and put your name on the bottom, then send it to everyone you know. If there are 1000 names on the list, please send it to..."

So I went to the site, and it's pretty funny. The idea, that is, not the practice. I don't believe this for a minute. This is even a better hoax than the BBC story of the Cambodian Midgets Fighting Lions. First, why would you use a shoehorn to get the cat into the bottle? Isn't the kitten on a muscle tranquilizer? Second, there is no mention of how much these cats cost. Third, the site proclaims that "if you take a week-old kitten and throw it to the floor, it will actually bounce! We do not recommend that you try this at home." What? Fourth, the site also explains the kitten's shape (i.e. bone structure) will conform to the shape any container it is in during its development. But I can't find any pictures to back this up. You would think that pictures of deformed kitten heads in the shape of a square would be the ultimate selling point for the sick and twisted.

The one thing I can't figure out is if the guestbook is fake or real. The pro-bonsai kitten letters look questionable. I mean, did a kindergarden teacher really say thank you for the creative teaching lesson in the classroom?

~ J-Dub

Friday, November 11, 2005

Love Hurts

I would like to declare my love for Raquel Gibson, Miss November 2005. Talk about hot AND ethnic. Italian and Filipino never looked so good. Oh yeah, did I mention she has a sister who also is a model?

- J-Dub

Thursday, November 10, 2005

See my spinners spinn

Why did I sell my Impala and move to Asia? I mean, you all remember the candy paint driping off the frame, my chain glistnin', with the shorties peepin' the spinners. Looks like I should have waited at least a few months until the Paul Wall CD hit the streets.

Embarrased yes. But I admit that I really, really wish I had a some sort of old school ride tricked out with a couple of tweleves in the trunk bumpin' "Sittin' Sideways". Trust me, just download that one song. Can't say much for the rest of the album. - J-Dub

Monday, November 07, 2005

Public Transit-induced Euphoria


Bangkok's traffic is legendary. The stuff dreams are made of. Or nightmares. Los Angeles has nothing on the statuary condition of Bangkok during rush hour (which seems to extend from about 7AM to 10AM, lunchtime, and 3:30PM to 9PM during the week, and not much lighter at any other hours). This lockdown of motorized vehicles would be a bit more bearable if it weren't for the lack of air quality regulations. Buses, tuk tuks (crazy three wheeled mini-taxis) , motorbikes and taxies often spue out black smoke that would have made Pompei jeolous. Thus, if you are comfortably inside an air con taxi it isn't too bad, but may Buddha help you if you have to walk along the sidewalk of a busy street. Each breath pulls in a cocktail of carcinogens that only a poorly maintained vehicle can offer. Put this together with the hot, sticky conditions that come with the territory of taking walks during the day, and you can feel your skin get grimy with the flatulence of petrolium-fueled vehicles. Because the traffic is ever-present and Bangkok is a maze of one way streets, drivers try to take as many short cuts as possible, avoiding traffic lights and laws. Safety is looked upon as a luxury that time cannot afford. Awesome.

But there is hope, and it comes in several forms. Public transport has given the pedestrian hope for a brighter, faster moving future. The Chao Phrya river is filled with boats and ferries that are fast and less invasive to the environment, but nothing new. The real answer comes in two equaly fantastic forms. The first and most widely used is the Skytrain (BTS). With two lines and stops along all the major points of interest, this elevated train is new, clean, fast, and cheap. Who could ask for more? Oh, and it offers views of the city and has excellent air con, so there. The second ideal tool for escaping the heat and the taxi meter is also a train. To board this one you go down, not up. The Underground (MRT) is newer and even faster than the Skytrain. This ingenius piece of engineering is probably among the nicest subways in the world. The subway's single line covers the main business district and also offers easy connection to the further-spanning Skytrain. So cheap, so fast, and so much better than sitting in a parked taxi.
~Bear

Know Your Septic Systems


According to the WHO / UNICEF, a meager 14% of the rural population in Cambodia has access to "improved sanitation." This includes flush wastewater toilets connected to sewer or septic systems, flush systems unconnected to sewer or septic, and simple latrines or pits unconnected. This means that 86% of the rural population has "no facility / field." That's right, most people use the ol' don't ask, don't tell policy and use the jungle as discretely as possible. So that's why everything is so green during the rainy season....

Well, considering their water sources are from pits dug in the ground to collect rainwater, it should surprise no one that there is so much disease and malnutrition in these rural villages. (Not to mention urban sanitation where a pultry 60% of the population has access to "improved sanitation"). That is why am researching septic systems. From what I've found, they aren't really difficult to make, and I'm considering the construction of some pilot projects in Cambodia.

While researching, I came upon a great, nay awesome, web site. It's called How Stuff Works. It has step by step instructions on everything from the Death Star to Botox. As a caveat, it took all my will power not to spend hours looking around. But it definitely has good info on septic systems for anyone considering a weekend project. Like they say, don't shit where you eat. Really, it's important.

~ J-Dub

Friday, November 04, 2005

BOO-YA KA-SHA !

Dancehall Reggae megastar Sean Paul and distant cousin of Canadian rapping legend Snow*, is back at his grindin' bass thumpin' music with The Trinity. He has that nack of making hypnotic music to the point that you can't help but move to it. In the presense of skilled dancers it's exceptionally entertaining to watch. Look no further than the "Get Busy" video. Equally entertaining perhaps might the PUMA dancing with a different kind of skill to the same song. I always knew that I liked Sean Paul, but the Puma was the one who would pay true homage by bumping the SP in my room every Friday night at 2am.

I'll save the full review for the Jo-Tel but I will say it might be a good thing that you can only understand every third word, or if not, the last word of each line he rhymes. A portion of a verse from " We Be Burnin' " :

Dis purple haze it mek mi crazy
mek mi write nuff tune and dat's what pays me
But i'm not di only occupation
Going' to get some I give yuh education
When a farmer grows it he knows to close it
Economical benefit help wit dose who have fi deh yah pon di hard jugglin
Cau di system only keep man strugglin
Studyin people a use it don't abuse it
Cau di concentration well reputed
Dat's why herb man dem a di wise one
And it found on di grave of king Solomon
And weed good fi di eye sight and di chest sight
And it give nuff insight gust gimme di light
and mek we blaze it da roof we a be raisin'

Holy crap they get some great stuff in Jamaica. Who would have known SP would make such a great educator. He has my nomination for director of the Department of Education. Just think what he could do with the 71.5 Billion Dollar Education budget. Talk about no child left behind. How happy would the youth today be? Yeah, they might be a few minutes late for class, or forget an occasional social science diorama but according to SP, as long as they don't abuse the trees, they will be excellent students and futher wise when their old. I'm sold.

After reading this verse, I think Sean Paul is saying the more you smoke, the less you make sense, but if you sing with a rapid fire, fluctuating Jamaican accent- no one will notice.

* The relationship between Sean Paul and Snow is purely speculation.

~ J-Dub

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Being sick is not fun

Both Bear and I have been sick at different times in the last week, since our trip to Cambodia. First Bear had hot/cold sweats before he developed a lingering cough which he still has. He had the pleasure of sitting next to live chickens on the bus ride back to Bangkok. Then two days ago, I woke up with tremendous fatigue and soreness all over followed by a wicked headache and hot/cold sweats. I won't bother anyone with the "explosive" details, but it's not fun.

The good news is that it's probably not Bird Flu because we are still alive. We both have not been to the doctor, but each day we have one less symptom. But it was scary to compare the symptoms of Bird Flu and our conditions. This is especially concerning when Monday CNN reports that a women who lives in our same district of Bankok, Nonthaburi, caught a case of bird flu.

Nonetheless you would have no idea that bird flu even exists judging by the normality of everyday live. Hopefully it's not N5H1 and as the saying goes, you have to experience the lows to appreciate the highs.

~J-Dub

Michael Learns to Rock

Do you know the most famous band in America? In all of America? Turns out: it is Michael Learns To Rock. I nor Bear had never heard of them, and this is partly due to the fact that there not even from America, they're from Denmark.

But while in Cambodia, every other question we were asked was do you know MLR or are you here to see MLR? Sorry, who? Because of their mispronunciation, it took about three times to finally understand the same question. But we came to learn that these guys were playing in a concert in Phnom Penh, which was hosting its "first international concert."

Everyone was really excited to see them (it was broadcasted on TV as well), and all the Cambodians wondered what we thought of them. They were shocked to learn that we had never heard of them. Astounded, they looked at us like we were crazy because we didn't know the most famous band in our own country. We finally figured out where all the confusion is from:

The Cambodian press was promoting MLR as "the most famous band in all of America." Well, beat me with a rubber hose, I never knew. I think MLR should change their name to "Michael Learns to Rock In Closed Information Asian Countries." Oh, yeah, their next stop was in China.

~ J-Dub