"PUSHEE MASHTA"

I have had quite the adventure the past couple of days. I went on a three day hike in the jungle the group that I was in consisted of me, two English guys, one Japanese guy, two German guys, a couple from Scotland and another guy from Scotland. We had two guides, Mr. Dong and Woody. We hiked to a couple of waterfalls and then we would spend the night with a hill tribe where we would get drunk and teach the Japanese guy some choice English phrases with the help of his electronic translator/dictionary. We had very limited exposure to the villagers, which was probably best. We played a game with the locals that is like volleyball but you use your feet not your hands. I did score once using me head, well, more my nose then anything. The ball is made from wood so my eyes watered for a while, but I did not want to appear as though I had hurt myself so I played through the pain. Then one of the locals kick spiked the ball right at me, thank god it missed because that would have hurt really bad. The last night we played games around the fire then Mr. Dong decided to take us all frog hunting in the rain. He managed to catch a couple then we took them back to the fire and roasted them on a wire grill type thing. We ate snake the first night.
We got done with the trip and we all met up with Mr. Dong and Woody for a big night out on the town. Every time you take the Japanese guys picture he makes a peace sign and then sticks his tongue through the middle of his out stretched fingers. That cute little number was presented by the German guys. Oh and he has been going by the nickname (sorry grandma) "pussy master" for the last two days or so. Which sounds like "pushee mashta" when the German guys or the Japanese guy says it. So we went to a bar called Heaven Beach it has sand on the floor and a good band that has no idea what the lyrics are but they get close enough for all intents and purposes. The owners name was Anang she was nice to me saying that she wanted to shave me, "you cute me shave you honey." About two hours into the show Woody and two other Thai guys have taken their shirts off and are dancing around with each other The Japanese guy sees this and he also takes his shirt off while screaming "pushee mashta," I look over at Mr. Dong and he starts pouring beer into his mouth from his extended arm then pours the last of it on his head, just like he won the world cup. The cops show up close the whole street down for what reason, I don't know. Mr. Dong and myself ate some street food, I think it was squid, some kind of hot dog and chicken guts with pineapple. We all go to the next place called the spicy bar where there are masseurres in the bathroom. They start rubbing you down while you are using the urinals, I opted for a stall. after closing that place down I end up in a tuk-tuk with a couple of girls from New York and and English guy who is so drunk all he can say is "take me to next drink... rasta bar." So off we go but that bar is closed. A guy comes up to us and in perfect English says everything is closed but I have a bar around the corner if you want me to I can open it. I asked him where he was from and he says Louisiana we hit it off and start chatting like old friends. Then some truck pulls up and asks us if we want to go to a party, so we went. It ended up being Anang's house, the owner of the first bar. I spent the night in a tent in her back yard and then took a taxi back into town. She has invited me back out there today for a barbecue, so I probably will go after I clean up a bit. I am off to Pai tomorrow, I hope this message finds you all well and happy.

Love,

-Jim

What the Fuck...? Oh well....Fuck It.

The title of this blog has become my Motto. I see things everyday that just do not fit into my frame of thinking, this forces me to expand and except. Both of which are good I think. I have to walk two blocks in the morning to the yoga shala. Within those two blocks their are cows that are turned out to the streets for pasture, ill tempered monkeys that raise their eyebrows up at you as if saying I would like to throw my feces at you but I just don't have to go right now. I saw a dead rat that was as big as a average sized house cat. The neighborhood milkman rides around on a scooter with open buckets of milk carefully balanced off of both sides of his scooter. Vegetable sales people on bicycle yelling out the fresh pick of the day. two shrines to two different gods right next to each other sometimes people are in their chanting or lighting candles or incense. There is a tree with shrines devoted to Adisious, who is the king of all cobras, the god Vishnu rode on him. Apparently he had a thousand heads, and chose to incarnate as a human named Patanjali. He is the man that wrote the first grammar books, health care book and yoga book. He's kind of a big deal. I have to cross one street with zig-zaging newspaper men that don't seem to have a pattern or a system at all, driving on the wrong side of the street often sometimes on the sidewalk. That is just my 10 minute morning walk!
I just had a conversation with a cute little girl that should probably be home at this hour, I think she lives right across the street. There are personal space bubbles here, and budding in line is not considered rude (unless I do it). The people here will just come up to me anytime anywhere and shake my hand, grab my biceps, lean over my shoulder and watch me while I am on the computer. All I can say is "What the F#@k," then "Well... F#@K it." The questions are always the same, "What country?" "What your name is?" "Are you married?" As soon as I say USA some will quickly say "Obama," Then I say "Obama" some I have taught the phrase, "Obama for your Momma, bitches," They really seem to like that. Specially down here in the south, because mama means uncle. Sometimes I get some funny looks from the English speakers if they over hear my impromptu "English lessons."

Love you all,

-Jim