The Pros and cons of another puppy.

While other people around the world are attending parties and passing out on coke and magic mushrooms. I'm sitting here trying to decide if I'm fiscally and emotionally responsible enough to buy another puppy. [Seriously, I'm so boring- I want to be passed out on something or at least snockered on apple schnapps somewhere, but alas my cupboard only carries peach so no wholesale imbibing for me.]

In any case, I'm thinking of getting an new puppy. I've been thinking of it for a while. I went to DoggyRescue, and SB spent so much time dragging his feet that by the time he changed his mind, the doggie I wanted was gone [hopefully to a good home, he deserves it.]

So Mexicana dragged me to another pet store, where I met her..




She is without a doubt freaking adorable.

But of course me being me, cannot buy a puppy without completely overanalysing, reanalysing. second guessing and then coming back to overanalyse some more. [Don't worry, I'm completely neurotic- I can do the same with a pair of shoes. Hours upon hours of hemming and hawing]


Pros:

It'd be nice to have the company, our family could do with some expansion.

I think Minnie could do with a little sister, I'd like Minnie to be less lonely.

Cons:

She is really really really expensive. Shes not kind of expensive. Shes the I-only-have-two-pennies-left expensive.

I'm not happy about giving that much money to a pet store. I'm well aware of the crappy reputation that pet stores have and I'm not really sure I want to contribute to it.

I don't know if I'm emotionally ready for another puppy. I'm even less sure that SB is [feet-dragger].

Peanut Butter= Orgasm

When I was fifteen I started developing allergies. Not haha allergies, but allergies that blew my hands up to Mickey Mouse proportions. For weeks I was waving my man hands in peoples faces. When I went to the doctor he said I was allergic to [deep breath]

prawns.
lobsters.
yeast.
certain types of grass

and.. peanuts!

peanuts!

I had to give up my beloved peanut butter to save my hands.

At any point, during these last nine years my allergies have subsided enough so that I can eat most of these foods [you have no idea how cranky I've been at family dinners when lobster and crab were passed around and all I had was strawberry ice cream and fried rice]

but I haven't had peanut butter til today.

And Oh Lord, it was a reunion in my mouth, I sat there with a jar of it frantically shovelling it down my maw. I think at one point I let out an audible sob.



So peanut butter, my bestest buddy, my soulmate- we are once again reunited. Fate shall not divide us again! [Its crunchy all the way, none of that wussy smooth stuff]

My personal campaign of terror

A few months ago on a busy Saturday evening, a patron asked me for a hot chocolate. Being the wonderful and delightful server that I am, I agreed.

Anyway he drank a mouthful of chocolate and a mouthful of blood, because the glass had a chip in its side and he had split his lip. In any case, he wasn't too happy about redrinking his own fluids. [Well, you coulda sorta tell by his face- he obviously couldn't really talk.]

Cut to yesterday, I was picking up empty and sort of empty glasses, but this one glass was slathered in vaseline [ok, no it wasn't] and it slipped straight out of my fingers and bounced onto the floor and all the liquid cascaded up and splashed the same customer all over the face and all over his jacket.

The same fricking customer.

The same ?%$&#$@%$%^$ing customer.

To put it mildly, he was infuriated. And as compensation, he demanded twenty five lattes. I made twenty five frigging lattes. Although now that I look back, I'm glad he didn't demand my head on a pike and my firstborn child because thats what I think he was really aiming for.

Anyway third times the charm- I hope to go the next six months without somehow decapitating him. Although don't be surprised if you read in the paper- "Freak spray of cards kills poker player, waitress denies involvement."

[Don't worry, I didn't just get it from him, I'm now known around the casino and down its hallways as the girl that serves coffee on you, not to you. My reputation precedes me, I think I will go lie down now]

I'm not adulterous. Just violent.

If you listen to the gossip of the casino, well then you must be very bored. Anyway I was so insanely bored that I left early.

But not before one of my bartenders pulled me aside to tell me the gaming supe wanted to ask me out.

Huh.

Of course theres the niggling fact that I have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend [thats not a freaking niggle by the way, thats the empire state building squashing you sideways]

oh and that I don't date people from work. I just don't. The Casino pays my bills but that may be the nicest thing I ever say about it. Some people are nice and some people have been working there so long that its addled their brains to the point where we need to herd them onto a type of farm.

Anyway if he asks [says the unsubstantiated gossip] I will catapult across the room and ninja kick him in the nuts. Or maybe I'll just politely refuse [which sounds a little more like me]

Things that:

Since nothing really interesting is happening in my life.. its time for some lists!

Ta-dah!

Things that gross me out: [ummm.. no pictures]

1. Peeling prawns. Especially twisting the head off because when you do black goo spills out followed by unidentifiable yellow mush. Also prawns are distant cousins to cockroaches. Therefore what I'm really peeling is a sea cockroach.

2. Anatomy for Beginners. Apparently you can peel a man's balls like an orange. You just slice and then take the outer layer right off, leaving you with um... balls...maggot coloured balls. Its as gross as it sounds. Oh and just for fun the professor [of Horror!] takes a pin and sticks it in the tip of the [non skin covered] penis. I almost ralphed.

3. Speaking of ralphing. Guess who threw up spaghetti-os in the bathroom? Its a lovely orange and red colour. And the aftertaste in your mouth tastes like lemons. Cheesy lemons.

And now .. who feels like dinner with me?!

SB's birthday

So it was SB's birthday, and I will dispense with the mushy stuff so you all don't gag all over your keyboards [but i wuv himmm, wuv himmm 4eva! SB4MushMush!]

Ha I lied, commence regurgitation.

Anyhoo I thought I would just post a billion pictures. And do some random commentary, you know you love random commentary.





So yes, as I mentioned before I gave SB a bubble machine for his birthday, he enjoyed it. But Minnie not so much enjoying being sprayed by bubbles.

So at night time we went for dinner in Thai Pathong. Seriously the restaurant is gorgeous, full of gay waiters, pretty cocktails and art for sale.


Frank and Sue


Um.. The birthday boy is giving me gangster fingers




I did mention the cocktails?


Joanne and Caroline






Alan and Christine


Cake!


Me: Thats not a knife......


SB: Are you seriously quoting Dundee to me? now?


It's a birthday surprise


Yes, that bag spent on a whole night on my lap. There was nowhere to put it. I am not showing off.

The guy in black is our waiter. remember the customer is always right and if they ask you to pose then pose!


And just for fun at a completely different restaurant, well this is kind of self explanatory. I think there is food on his tongue.

Shh..

Its Sb's birthday present.

Not yet wrapped for tomorrow. I hope its a sunny day for us to take it outside.

Its one of those days

When you're 5c away from your train fare, when you drop your ipod twice, and the library takes an hour and a half to get you three books. The only thing to do is sleep. Look how happy SB looks. I'm pretty sure I don't look that happy when I sleep*

*See previous post. Anvils! Anvils! Anvils everywhere!

Meet me at the altar in your white dress

Last month I dreamt:

That Mexicana, Saffron and I were standing at the bottom of a very very tall staircase. It was like a giant fire escape with nothing else connected to it. Anyway Mexicana and Saffron had this great idea [sigh. not so great] to climb to the top of this staircase thing, and I was like "are you kidding me? I'm afraid of heights!" and they're all "Nooo! It'll be cool!" so anyway up we go, for some reason they are wearing spangly stilettos and I am wearing flats [although now that I think about it, yeah ok I'm the flats girl] and so we're racing all twenty nine levels of it. When we reach the top, we're so high up that we're kind of surrounded by clouds. Anyway Saffron happy to be there, leans backwards on the railing and shes on those stilettos so she topples right over it and plunges down.. down... down. Mexicana and I rush to the railing to look for her, but when I look down I know theres no hope, because theres no way anyone can survive a fall from twenty nine storeys.

Then I wake up.

Yesterday Saffron told me she was getting married. And this is the part where you tell me I should stop over analysing my dreams.

My robot..

My robot doesn't do anything a robot is supposed to do such as clean the house and cook me breakfast. Instead he walks around in circles all day pausing occasionally to glare at me menacingly, I need a new robot.

Random notes on my life

Yesterday my cousin and his wife had a baby boy. They are only going to speak to him in english, the kid is going to grow up having people swear at him in chinese and only being able to answer them back in hand signals.

I served a pair of sixty year old twins cups of coffee. They were wearing the same clothes and same make-up. However their make-up was identically horrendous. You should never wear blue and green [and purple] eyeshadow at sixty.

We thought my new phone was broken but really we had just plugged it in the wrong way, we are very smart.

I'm sitting here deciding whether I should take an extra bartending shift at a nightclub on Saturday. I'm really hitting the overnighters lately.

The checkout boy thought I was weird when I bought an orange and a jar of honey. I had to explain to him that I was sick not crazy. The orange was moldy anyway.

My Stepdad has offered to pay for my wedding, my Dad has not. SB thinks my Dad will be shitty if he found out.
Me: Do you really think my dad is going to pay for my wedding?? especially with Irene involved?? if I'm lucky I might get a cupcake in a park with a newspaper on my head as a veil. They might pay for the newspaper because they've read it already.
SB: Well he'll be pissed off that he [the Stepdad] paid for it. Hou mou mien (Lost face)
Me: Right... so he's not going to pay for it, and he doesn't want other people to pay for it.. whos going to pay for it?? The government??
SB: Free weddings for all!

Our bar ran out of napkins, so I spent a good two hours cutting up the remaining napkins in half to make them last. Not one customer noticed which makes me think that I'm a great napkin cutter, the best in the bartending business.

Its a weekend blowout

So the weekend it starts off with a bang and finishes on an almighty explosion that wipes out mankind and.. um.. everybody else.

Friday: Mexicana's Bday. Dinner at the Bellevue Hotel, I never want to see another beef chippolata again. Or smell one or have to shove one down my maw. Also when did security at karaoke get so tight? Its karaoke not an airport- I'm just saying. What am I going to hijack? a microphone??

Saturday: I'm too freaking croaky to go to work. I call in sick and my supervisor thinks I'm playing a joke on him. Sigh. So I lay back for the day recovering and then head off to Bamboo.
The best thing about Bamboo is undoubtedly Squishy the mascot panda, he does body rolls and makes coy movements with his paws. He also takes people tackling him quite nicely [far nicer than I'd be if random kept grabbing me for bear (panda?) hugs]. They play "Sweet Home Alabama" over the sound system, which should really tell you something about the club and the likelihood that I'll go back.

Sunday: Holy Fuck. It's seven in the morning. What am I doing at work? I can't keep my eyes open and I'm ridiculously trying to hide the stamp on my arm in a short sleeved shirt. I tell everyone I have the flu. Although I have to say I look quite ok for someone who hasn't slept for thirty hours [of course that might just be my contacts distorting from being in my eyes for the same amount of time]

Monday: It's dinner time and my parents fight over dinner. Everyone cries. The weekend is officially over.

Happy Birthday!

To my best friend who:

-dances with me on the street [while we recite lines from Titanic]

-remembers that I like to take the express elevator

-treats my puppy as her own

-always lends me shoes because my high heels are always two sizes too small

-sits for hours with me while we drink moscato and flip through trashy magazines

-never fails to give me jazz hands

Its totally your day. Muah muah.

So fluey

And so cranky. Its a good day to stay in bed and just feel miserable. I used to think that rain was romantic. I was young and stupid. And obviously read too much Bronte [Even I could tell at fifteen that Heathcliff and Cathy were selfish, manipulative gits, those poor Lintons should've just packed up and moved house]



Yeah I'm special, I don't even use normal tissues. I use specially bought japanese ones, although really theres not much difference.
[Btw I've taken this with my new phone camera not my new chipmunk borked one, I'm hoping my photoes will get better with time, it does look a bit fuzzy though.]

So two months ago..

I asked [I can't think of an appropriate name so we'll call her Squishy- I'm in the middle of a creative drought you know] Squishy to empty the bins at work before she left. She looked at me and said "Only if the supervisors pay me overtime"

Today Squishy asked me to empty the tub of plates before I left, I looked at her and said innocently "Am I getting overtime?"

Tatergirls dictionary defines karma as: the justice by which deeds done during one lifetime affect a persons status in a later incarnation.

In other words empty the damn bin otherwise later no one is going to empty your tubs for you. The End.

[well maybe not the end we'll see what happens tomorrow, maybe we'll just both leave everything everywhere and the casino will be overrun by giant rats.]

Excuse not to study #46832

When she left our house, Tatergirl left a few things- most of them sort of junky, a fifty cent ironing board, packets of salt, a freaking grapefruit, an outstanding loan of ten dollars which I will never see again in my lifetime [and if paid back in thirty years will be worth peanuts] and a Heinemann Australian Dictionary.

It's a dictionary and its supposed to be useful, I mean who ever heard of a useless dictionary? And it was complied by the good and hard working people at La Trobe University [Well, I think they're good and hard working- they could just be manic wife beaters or something. All of them.]

So anyway, I sat down to study yesterday morning [go me!] and there were a few words that I didn't really understand so I pulled it out and started thumbing for meanings.

First word: Kleptocrats .. kleptocrats.. kleptocrats.. nope, nothing, not even kleptomania to tide me over.

Second word: Circumscription.. circumscription... its a noun?? and??

how can I work under these circumstances????! Its an outrage!

I cannot, I'm not studying til' someone buys me a proper fricking dictionary*. Or leaves me one**.

*The stupid thing was published in 1992, it doesn't even feature the word internet, but then what did I expect when she left it behind? a moldy piece of fruit and an outdated book.. gahhhhhhh...

** a new one, not one published in 1665, thanks very much.

Explain yourself phantom!

Today I found a guitar pick while cleaning between the floorboards, so I'm supposing the ghost of a dead guitar player haunts our house*. Or else our useless landlord was serenading our dog while we were away**.

*The previous owner was an old lady, there are just not that many ninety old guitar players around.

**That might help to explain her precocious temperament

My liver just conked out

If you looked at me carefully [not there, you pervert] you would probably come to the conclusion that I am a very sedate, crossword-doing, stay at home on a Friday night, only drinks a glass a year type of person [its true, look at my eyes- so innocently blinking at you]

but if you took an MRI and took a look at my liver [just saying, shuttup] you would then conclude that the liver belonged to a fifty year old woman that wears nothing but stilettos and a boob tube while drunkenly offering herself for another vodka. I will.. I will... not have sex with you if you buy me another drink?

So anyway last week I had:.

Ready?

5 kettles of soju [ thats kettles not shots]
1 shot of chartreuse [gah]
4 Cowboys
6 Quickfucks
a smirnoff black


My liver is making tsk tsk noises and looking to inhabit another body, vampire style.
although really its not as bad as my co-worker who hasn't stopped drinking since he was a wee tot and has recently started vomiting blood. When I start vomiting blood I think I will stop, nah just kidding my liver is making noises again at the thought.

20 Random Facts since I was gone since February

These are not in order by the way.

1. Breast surgery which is not breast surgery is still very expensive. Use health care

2. Men bitch as much as women do, don't believe them when they say they don't.

3. Graphic design class is fun, but ignore the first few lessons when they teach you how to scroll

4. Roaches bounce

5. Sometimes SB's friends don't wash their hands after they pee [dun wipe on your jeans!]

6. "Are you at uni?" is the worst pickup line of all time

7. Don't follow it up with "So you work?", because I will make you cry.

8. No-one [and I have asked about forty people] wants to go to the Easter Show except me, I'm thinking that if I went, it'd just be me alone and a whole bunch of tumbleweeds

9. The 300 is a good film for post analysis shit-kicking, guaranteed to have you and your friends discussing lesbians, hunchbacks and east vs west metaphors [see? now aren't you intrigued?!]

10. Buying a bottle of aloe vera juice on your birthday will result in tears and acrimony.

11. I am the worlds best pictionary player [undisputed!]

12. Two years later, the "violence and civilization" course has the same teacher who is still so boring that he still makes the baby Jesus cry [or at least sleep very soundly]

13. I control the weather by simply saying "Lets go to the beach", it will either result in rain or tsunamis, sometimes both.

14. Verandah bar is too yuppie, even for me. Its Mardi Gras people! Let go!

15. Your fingers in anatomy terms are called the phalanges

16. My hair is black after the first time in eight or so years- back to my asian roots!

17. You can only watch Charlie the unicorn on youtube once, the fourth and fifth time makes your head want to explode

18. When your bf's grandma tells you to stop taking the pill to entrap her darling grandson into marriage, its time for everyone involved to stop watching too much tv.

19. Andy Lau is still hot, but even he can't make me sit through the snooze which is "Battle of the Wits"

20. I don't say this enough but I have the best friends in the world who put up with my neuroses, year in and year out [and they're still here!]

Its a travel blog!

So we're baaaack! All loved up and orange like an oompa loompa. Welcome to Mish's adventures in two of the fastest cities in the world [bring a pillow, its gonna be a long ride, yes I do realise its March and I've missed posting about birthdays, valentines day, surgeries, neh neh neh]

DAY 1: BANGKOK. OMG.

First impressions of Bangkok [and this is coming from the views of a firmly middle class citizen from a firmly middle class country] this place is a mess. Well ok not to the state obvious or anything, lets just quote from the hallowed halls of U2 and be done with it

"The traffic is stuck and you're not moving anywhere"

The traffic here is sensationally insane, crossing a road has a Wile. E. Coyote feel to it, oh sure it misses you now, but sooner or later you're going to end up under the wheels of an anvil/rock/tuk-tuk/motorcycle/hot pink taxi. Dying in Bangkok is not really the way I wanted to go [mid orgasm with Harrison is really my preferred option] so the only real way of avoiding this is convincing yourself that your side of the road is the better side, never mind that it looks like air conditioning on the other side. Your side is better.

And I don't know what they're saying about Bangkok being a prostitute mecca, but I haven't seen a single one let alone been propositioned by one. It's quite disappointing.

Also that King is bugging me. Get out of my face.

DAY 2: BANGKOK. WE'RE STARTING TO ADJUST!

So today was started off at the legendary Khao San! It really wasn't that legendary. Or maybe we were there too early and everyone was asleep [we were still on Sydney time. Bangkok Time? 6 in the morning] except a few drunk backpackers and go-go girls playing pool. Who plays snooker at six in the morning?
Anyway we decided to do something slightly more spiritual, we would visit the temple.

See? Pretty temple and me committing all sorts of sacriliege inside [ and outside] the temple.

Questions that occurred to me inside the temple.
1. OMG. I have a wedgie, should I pull it or wait til I get outside?
2. Why does Buddha have nipples but no genitalia?
3. Will SB kill me if I ask him now?
[Answers. 1. Just pull it, be zapped later.]

Also I got the thrill of seeing a smoking monk, here you can see the picture. I just love it. So after we left the temple, I took my first and last tuk tuk ride. Sorry guys, but never again. ever. If you've ever sat in the back of a tuk tuk without a seatbelt with the driver mowing you into incoming traffic and you think that it would be fun to do it again, you are not doing it with me. Happy tuk tukking to you.

To get out of the heat, we headed to MBK centre! Air con! Woo! Its seven levels of shopping madness, the only thing to avoid in MBK centre is the cult of primary school cheerleaders, really, I don't know what else to call them but they march around in big groups, with their faces painted afterwards they'll stop abruptly and start stomping and singing. It's really bizarre. I don't know if I can really convey to you how bizarre it was, but my ovaries died just a little just watching. [actually I can think of an analogy, its kinda of like the haka in a shopping centre, but miniaturised]

Too much shopping can be hazardous

Day 3: BANGKOK: MIDDLE CLASS MISH

So we got up early because our bodies still hadn't adjusted Bangkokially, its nine in Sydney and five in Bangkok, think about it, it's still dark outside. So we thought we would head up to the world famous Chatuchak market. Kilometres and kilometres of markets, kind of like Paddys' on acid. It was seven o'clock in the morning and it was *hot. It was starting to get very very steamy, not much was open but already it was starting to smell rank. The outsides were ok but the insides were 'hold your breath people, your eyes will start to water' rank. We were there for maybe forty five minutes before we couldn't do it anymore.

So guess where we went? This is how I know I'm so firmly firmly firmly middle class, we headed to a designer shopping centre. Tiffanys! Cartier! Gourmet supermarkets! [I'm sorry I can't help it, air conditioning excites me]

Look at the chips! Have you ever seen so many of the chips in one spot other than in a warehouse? The entire supermarket was like this. Sigh. I could've slept in that supermarket.

That behind me people is a fishtank. A fishtank in a food court. I'm so happy [and decadent].

DAY 4: SORTOF BANGKOK: THE TOUR

I've never been so dusty in my life. I have to tell you by the end of the day I didn't really want to see anymore temples. Temples are pretty, but you can overdose on them. Like drugs.
Me and Sb didn't want to see temples after that for a longlonglonglong time.

See that horrendous yellow shirt? I was made to wear it so I wouldn't show off my scandalous western shoulders. [Don't worry you can see my shoulders in other photoes]

Day 5: PHUKET: WELCOME WELCOME


So we left Bangkok, I couldn't tell you if I missed Bangkok or not, but I was really looking forward to lying on beaches and doing nothing. I don't know what I was expecting of Phuket really. I was expecting it not to smell so much actually and I expected the traffic to be better. You can still get run over in Phuket. I think I was expecting Port Macquarie [and that is what happens when you read too many travel brochures!] We went to the beach, Patong beach to look around and it was positively stuffed with people, it wasn't exactly the quiet retreat I was expecting. I think I may have walked around the rest of the day with my face pinched into an expression of lemony sourness. [you know that look!]


DAY 6: PHUKET: OH YOU CRAZY KIDS

Sooo today we decided we would get away from the mass migration of fanta coloured europeans and take a motorcycle around Phuket, maybe find our own secluded beach and just sleep. Ok, we were silly and foolhardy and did I mention theres traffic in Phuket? And that SB has never driven a motorbike before? oh, and that Phuket is full of HIGHWAYS? Ahh that, you'd think I would think about that before I got on a motorbike with an amateur. Hrrr, obviously the heat was melting my brain. Well the first part of the trip was fine, we biked it to Karon beach which I have to say was perfectly beautiful and there was a real lack of people [hooray!] but when the time came to leave.. lets explore? why not? driving a motorbike on a Phuket highway is nightmare inducing, things are [including babies on harleys] constantly whizzing by you, trucks are honking you, buses are trying to overtake you. I have to tell you I am so proud I never let out a single "eeeeeeeee" possibly I think because my face was frozen in terror and couldn't move any muscles, but still that is besides the point.

We did end up in a mountainous rainforest up the top of Phuket that was really nice, however it said "Do not feed the monkeys, they will bite" There were no monkeys, there were dogs but no monkeys. Oh and some kindly guy stopped us and told us to take off the motorbike brake while we were driving. [yeah, we're amateurs. got it.]

DAY 7: PHUKET: BREASTS! BOYS! SEX!

Admittedly, I do not have really large breasts, they're never going to be the size of my head but you know I have a little bit to work with, but not so much that I'm ever going to put anyone to shame [geez, that was a convoluted way of saying not very big, not very small] but in Phuket apparently my knockers were blocking out the sun. That or Thai girls have no breasts.
I was walking down the street [in a button down shirt, mind you, not a bikini or a singlet] and some guy looked down my shirt and he said "wow". Wow? What wow? Excuse me creepy guy, buy a magazine. Or a dvd. There's lot of them in Thailand. Later on that night I stopped into a lingerie shop, y'know just for looking and I asked the saleswoman [or it might've been a man] "excuse me?" as I pointed to a bra that was probably a minus minus A "do you have anything bigger?".
She/he then hooked her finger around my top looked down my shirt [There's a lot of peeping going on in my shirt!] and said "we don't have anything that big"
I have to say I goggled at her "nothing?"
She pointed at a lone black bra swinging in the breeze at the top of the store.
"Only that one".
That was one lonely b-cup. Needless to say I goggled my way out of there, but not before having a conversation with my chest about how long we could stay in a place that didn't sell bras for anything larger than an a-cup, we couldn't.

DAY 8: PHUKET: AUSTRALIA DAY

So its Australia Day, and SB and I being the patriots that we are thought [after a long day sleeping at the beach] that we would stop by at 'Two Black Sheep' and have a free shooter on the Australians, after all it is our duty!
Hmm.. We got there and harassed the barlady for cocktails we turned around and surveyed the floor. It was some really sad shit. Aussies getting drunk everywhere [which is of course, our international mission] done to a supremely dodgy dance floor with some really supremely dodgy music. Okie doke, I love my country and I would die for it, but you will nevernevernever get me drunk enough to dance to "I am, you are, we are Australian" complete with hand movements, or ummm.. "Tie me Kangaroo down sport" complete with wobbling effects or.. "Pub with no name" [how do you dance to that? huh?!], there are limits to what I will do for my country! So SB and I sculled our drinks and left to watch a Thai drama on tv about witches and zombies, it was infinitely more entertaining than watching everyone falling about to "I still call Australia home".

DAY 9: PHI PHI ISLAND: IT'S PRETTY

What can I say? I think I'll just post some pictures. Very pretty.



DAY 10: PHUKET/BANGKOK/HONG KONG

We spent most of the day taking planes. Goodbye Phuket! Goodbye! SB said he would miss Phuket, but I don't really think I will, I'll miss the holiday aspect of it.. but I dunno, theres not one point of it that I would say "That is what I would miss" and actually genuinely regret leaving it. I'm just glad I'm going where the shit isn't going to hit my feet!
What can I say? When we arrived at Hong Kong I felt like I was coming home, not SB however, his expression was similar to mine when we reached Phuket. Its called "Whatthefuckhave Igottenmyselfinto" face.

DAY 11: HONG KONG: I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT!

Really I don't have much to say, other than I love it. Even though the people are ruder than .. well there's not much they are ruder than [nazis? fast food restaurants workers? angry lions?]
I feel mostly that if you leave them alone then they will leave you to do your thing as well. However, SB is miseeeerable in Hk, after the habitual Thai politeness, he is going through some extreme culture shock punctured by bouts of "I hate this place!". Me, I can only shrug then turn around to stare at some more shoes.

Well he doesn't look too unhappy, maybe I should've made him stay longer.

All I can say is wowwwwwwwwwww.. its like New Years Eve everyday.

DAY 12: HONG KONG: DISNEYLAND. HAPPIEST PLACE IN THE WORLD!

Well ok, It was and it wasn't. But I guess it makes a funny anecdote now.
Anyway I wanted to take a photo with Chip n'Dale. [Everyone here knows Chip nDale right? Of course. Whats wrong with you, if you don't??] and so I handed the camera over to the photographer, however the camera didn't quite reach his hand and it went dunk-thunk-ba-dunk all over the floor. So SB and I and the two chipmunks stood over the camera and examined it [in a deft piece of irony I wish someone had taken a picture of us four studying it] of course there was a queue forming for Chip n'Dale so they had to stop trying to fix the camera [with their paws] and so I started to leave in my distress because nothing could be done to save my brand! new! camera!. But before I left, Dale took my hand and gave me a reassuring hand/paw hold and a sad sad nod. I have to say that was the nicest Chipmunk I ever met.

Stitch was very nice too, I'm thinking that the characters practice their handshakes in their sparetime [after conjuring up magic rats and running from bad guys or something]



DAY 13: HONG KONG: GOODBYE! GOODBYE!

So its with a heavy heart, that our holiday finally ended, with our skin four shades oranger than it used to be, two suitcases full of clothes that we still haven't worn and a completely ruined camera. I need another holiday! Doesn't it look like I need another holiday?