I felt like I could handle the motorbike round these tracks on the edge of the jungle. One of my rare Marlboro Man moments. Real American Wild West mentality. But lest we forget, the question is not whether America saved us Brits in WWII, but why they took so long, while Coke designed Fanta solely for sale in the Third Reich post 1939 and IBM adapted and maintained systems for 'processing' Jews. A new bread of hero was now needed and that might just be me. Not good in a bar brawl but good in a bar at dawn. I had heard you could get opium up around here in the hills of North West Thailand. I went past a seemingly half alfresco hospital on the way up the winding dirt track. Not knowing I would spend some hours getting bandaged up their later, after another minor opium and moonshine spill. Later still I would meet a girl back in my hometown, who had spent time in the same hospital. She once rubbed my cock as I turned to kiss her friend.
The tracks lead past the hospital to a solitary collection of huts on low stilts. I pulled over by one and asked for opium. I bold move, but it paid off. The next time a guy hailed me from the side of the road, I thought my luck was in. He actually wanted to offer me a fried bug. I ate it of course. I had already eaten a boiled bug back in an opium hut. After my first score, I brought along a Dutch friend, Eelko and we ended up in this family’s hut eating dinner with them after smoking opium. I ate my bug down, when the head of the family offered me it to me. My Dutch amigo was so stoned he didn't realise what it was he held out in front of his mouth. Once he did, he let out a screech and flung it across the room. The family thought it was hilarious. I've had fertilised eggs offered too, and accepted by me, before now. It’s mostly done for shock effect I think, on both sides.
A nice evening meal was an added bonus. This was not long after the father had stoked our opium pipes, with our heads on block pillows. There was no threatening over tones. Smoking opium here was so far up the drug chain, the real cunts hadn't even got involved yet. No buying and selling of self esteem and nightmares here, just a transaction for a bit of fun. I smoked too much opium on a boat on the Mekong once, for aesthetic reasons. I think I had too-many-pipes. It was the coolest thing ever, until both the seller and I got greedy for our respective goals. It was Christmas Eve and I spent the whole of Xmas almost paralysed in bed, after throwing up in my rucksack liner.
Saturday, 26 December 2009
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
Monday, 21 December 2009
Sunday, 20 December 2009
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Thou Gloomy December
Thou Gloomy December
Robert Burns, 1791
Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December
Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care;
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember
Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair.
Fond lovers' parting is sweet, painful pleasure,
Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour;
But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever
Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure.
Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,
Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown;
Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom,
Till my last hope and last comfort is gone.
Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,
Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care;
For sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair.
Robert Burns, 1791
Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December
Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care;
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember
Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair.
Fond lovers' parting is sweet, painful pleasure,
Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour;
But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever
Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure.
Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,
Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown;
Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom,
Till my last hope and last comfort is gone.
Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,
Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care;
For sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair.
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Jack Rose. February 16 1971 ~ December 5 2009.
R.I.P.
Thoughts to Jacks Family and Friends, thanks for leaving us with your music.
Monday, 7 December 2009
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