Readers' Submissions

Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 261

  • Written by Dana
  • October 23rd, 2010
  • 9 min read


Greetings flip-floppers and Dana fans:

All things come to an end and this story is the end of my Korski reporting. Someone else will have to pick up the lance, scoop up the flag, gird their loins, and keep an eye on Korski. God speed. I'm not sayin' that reporting on Korski isn't important. It is important. Someday when a unified field theory of the universe ties together quantum mechanics and Einsteinian physics Korski will be part of the equation. It all counts. Is Korski the long looked for and hoped for dark matter that holds the universe together? I don't think so but he does count. It all counts. Really, it's just a matter of time. I just don't have the time to run an international Korski spotting and reporting organization. I'm on my own monger mission from God which, like a Chinese farmer spreading night soil on crop land, includes me spreading my love to as many women as possible. So many women, so little time.

Anyway, the following story is about my last sighting of the great man and it is titled:

LIKE MOSES IN THE DESERT

My sister (aka my stupid sister) and her husband (aka goofball husband) were in town so I booked the tickets with Anna the activities director at the A.A. Hotel on Soi 13/0 in Pattaya and took them on the all day beach-and-boating trip to Ko Larn. It's a sure fire fun time for expats and tourists alike. Four different boat trips, beautiful weather, parasailing from an offshore barge, lunch, beach walking, swimming in cleaner clearer water, shopping for the ladies etc. I told them where to meet me near the beach Buddha shrine because I wanted to do some computer work at the Soi 10 computer place first.

An Hour Later: so, computer stuff done; I am walkin' down the boardwalk in the early morning and what do my eyes see but the LRW (Little Red Wagon) of Korski's (aka Professor Korski). It's all kitted up and loaded with bargirl survey sheets, clipboards, tripod camera, tape recording devices, wire cage and green hanging Pendaflex folders as well as manilla folders and transparent file label holders, visorcam safarii hat, etc.

But the Little Red Wagon (LRW) has gone upscale since the last time I saw it on South Road. It is now pulled by a little red tricycle with multi-colored plastic tassels coming out of the handlebars, and a size large mulberry bark umbrella lashed to the bike's frame. Apparently, Professor Korski no longer walks (and pulls), he now rides. Korskian evolution in action. But where was he? His spoor was everywhere but I did not see him. Anyway, he must be around somewhere workin' up the middle-aged man nerve to ask Ling, or Ping, or Sing, or Ming, or Bam, or Sam, or Fam out with his survey routine; but I just didn't see him.

Then I saw four Thai boys shooting at something with their surgical tubing and bicycle inner tube slingshots. It's Korski on the beach. Bare feet, pant legs rolled up, shirtless, hands and arms held straight out: he is walking into the sea. Far be it from me to judge the great man but . . . well, Professor Korski may be a world famous lecturer on evolution but his knowledge of astronomy is a bit shakey. Marching into the sea on that bright early boardwalk morning muttering incantations to the sun-god Ra: he was going west. The sun comes up in the east. Kinda makes you wonder what might have happened on Darwin's trip around the world if Captain FitzRoy of the HMS Beagle had made Korski the navigator. The ship might have ended up in Pattaya Bay with Darwin pounding girls like a hammer at a nail convention. Goodbye theory of evolution, hello Victorian private parts held together with duct tape.

Anyway, Korski's muttering and marching into the water is suicide writ large and the next ten minutes of my life I could have done without. Believe me when I tell you that I never thought I'd hear myself say these words that I said. But that incident and those words are not really the point. I am out of time and what I really want to talk about is:

Well, just one more detail. My sister and her husband wanted to know why I showed up at the beach-and-boating trip rendezvous point riding a little red tricycle and pulling a little red wagon. Some things are hard to explain to tourists. Anyway, what I really want to talk about today is:

Ok, a little more detail before we get back to the beach-and-boating trip with my sister and her husband. The little red tricycle that pulls the little red survey wagon has a fart collector for turbo power assist, chromed rack for automobile batteries, inclinometer for curve/speed diagnosis, turn signals, rear view mirrors, flashing lights. balloon tires with deep anti-hydroplaning treads (you learn a few things during the rainy season), road kill refrigerator, elevated tricycle seat (the Professor is a tall man), air horn that plays Essan music, Las Vegas style poolside misting machine for the hot season, refrigerator for bargirl treats, sheepskin cover for seat, lobsterman gloves forall-weather posigrip, Polaroid Land Camera (Thai ladies love to have their picture taken), brass temple bells hanging from the edge of the umbrella, and elephant sized around-a-palm-tree anti-theft lock and chain. Oh, and yes; you guessed correctly–for night research work his vehicle can throw purple cones of light into the sky and his license plate says K-MAN. And, of course, lucky Thai ladies who participate in the Professor's clipboard survey sheet 'research' can win a T-shirt that says:

"I Got Researched By K-MAN."

You knew that? Good guess. And do I hear you whispering the words 'franchise opportunity' ? Yes, you figured that out also. Meetings have been held, power point lunches presented, international bankers engaged, and manufacturing bid protocols started. Soon Korski research vehicles will be available worldwide for men who need extra help meeting and charming women. Naturally, Professor Korski will be available for consultation and training. And naturally, no franchise research vehicles will be made available to the French (FTF), Russians, Koreans, Japs, Ufxxxistans, West Africans, Indians, or Lesbians. Some things just aren't right.

Korski attracts attention to his research vehicle and I am told he is successful now in meeting Thai ladies of the friendly kind. Apparently, he is going through Thai ladies like prunes go through an old lady and he now smiles so much he has had caps and whitening applied to his teeth. Ditto for hair plugs, rhinoplasty, wart removal, dermabrasion, fake dragon tattoos, lidectomy, bagectomy, testicle scotum sack lift, and buttocks silicone enhancement. He has even learned to say:

"Prot bawk chan wa khoon tawing-kan sak thao-rai pheua wa rao ja dai tok-long kan sia kawn."

Professor Korski's annual research results are published yearly in a gold embossed, vellum paged, Moroccan leather book that includes research anecdotes, bar charts, pie charts, and pictures of volunteer unpaid research subjects (note: some of these unpaid research subjects are hotter than a broken steam pipe in a submarine). Also available in braille, disc, DVD, and talking edition. Each yearly research volume also has up-to-date progress information on the MacArthur genius grant application. Tear-out pages are available for those who want to send in testimonials and references to the MacArthur genius grant headquarters.

And yes, yes, oh god yes; the inside cover of the annual research report has a 4-color high resolution holographic picture of Professor Korski with hand painted pointillistic pupils that appear to follow you. Prop up the book in your home, or apartment, or condo, or hotel room and get the same disturbing creepy feeling that Thai ladies get as Professor Korski's eyes follow you around the room. Ask yourself this question: when is the last time you saw Oracle's or Microsoft's annual report with this feature?

Exactly. When is the last time the CEO of Oracle or Bill Gates appeared to be following you around the room? It may be time to get on board the Korski train. He may, weirdly and disturbingly, be the future. The world is full of lonely, inept horny men in Phuket, and Trang, and Na Thawi, and Ranong, and Thap Sakae, and Bo Rai, and Na Yia, and Wanon Niwat, and Chom Thong, and Hat, and Pong, and Sai Yok, and Pattaya, and Bangkok who can not walk up to a Thai lady of the very friendly kind and say:

"Boom Boom?"

Professor Korski may, like Moses in the desert, be showing the way. If he stops wearing shorts and a T-shirt and changes to a robe and a staff, the transmutation and incarnation will be complete. Think about what I am saying. Some day you may spot a stooped, aging figure on the boardwalk with a robe, long white beard. long white hair, leather sandals, and a walking staff. Could be the K-MAN. On the other hand, it could also be one of my aging tranny lovers. God, I hope I'm not on the game then. There's a monger shock I don't need. Anyway, I will notify you if I spot this. But I can't carry the whole Korski load. You can notify me here at Dana Central if you spot this apparition. Korski spotting requires collaboration between hyper alert mongers. He keeps no schedule and is liable, like a meerkat in Africa, to pop up anywhere and anytime.

God, makes you think doesn't it? Someday we might not be able to tell the difference between Korski and an aging tranny. Reminds me of the words of the Chinese philosopher One Hung Low who said:

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

Ok, I forgot what he said. Just be careful is all. You don't want to be thinkin' about tranny love, tap a boardwalk cruiser on the shoulder, and have Korski turn around and stare at you. Maybe that's just me. You might be different. In my case, I already have a damaged heart; an experience like that could kill me.

So, enough updates on the K-MAN. What I really wanted to talk about today was the all day beach-and-boating trip to Ko Larn with my stupid sister and her goofball husband. God, what a fiasco. The first horrible thing that happened was . . . oops, all out of time. See you next week.

Maeng-Ka-Phroon! Ra-Wang!
Dana

Stickman's thoughts:

Once again, Dana leaves me speechless!