Stickman Readers' Submissions December 18th, 2010

Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 269

Holiday Greetings to Dana fans and Stickman fans:

It’s the Christmas season, and so in honor of Christmas; I place three presents under your reading tree with this submission. These are Thai-farang genre non-denominational stories: in other words, I do not care if you are a monger
or if you are not a monger. It is the season of love and we are all one.

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1. a ‘Christmas-in-Thailand’ personal story.

2. an announcement regarding a new Dana Enterprises (Boston-Bangkok) gift that will be available next (2011) Christmas.

3. and finally the main event—a story of 100% personal aspect that combines photography, a one-eyed femme fatale, and my sphincter so tight you couldn’t hammer in a chop stick with a coconut. Enjoy.


Sometimes it is hard to know what you are going to see in life. It’s around 1995 and it is the Holiday season in Thailand and I believe I was in the G-Spot bar (maybe another bar—not real sure). Around midnight the lights go
out and there is an announcement followed by a spotlight on the girl’s dressing room door. The song Here Comes Santa Claus starts playing and out comes a conga line of girls dressed in Santa hats, aluminum foil antlers, and shaking bells.
Riveting. Around the floor of the bar and then up on the stage. God I love Christmas. Nothing says Christmas like dancing Thai ladies with flashing white teeth, and Santa outfits.

Later that night I was in a tranny bar. Same scene-same show; except the girls were about nine feet tall, sexier, and covered with the kind of red balls you hung on your Christmas tree as kids. A tranny danced over to me and said:

“Want to kiss my balls?”

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Ah Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year.


I am having Dana portrait medals cast in gilt bronze. These beautiful commemorative objects of aesthetic and adulational aspect will return many times their acquisitional cost in estate and emotional value. The medals have either my face
in boom-boom reverie or contemplative writer visage on the obverse, and notationals on the reverse. Please contact this website for information.

And what can you do with these Dana gilt bronze medallions besides veneration and the interior coal-like glow that comes from the knowledge that you are one of the few people on Earth to have one? Well, carry one around in your front pant’s
pocket for that ‘Close-to-Dana’ feeling all day. Or, hang one from the inside rear view mirror of your car. Throw a party and pass one around. Your face and your arms will flush red with excitement as friends and family admire me
and admire you. Etc. Be all you can be. Join yourself to me with a Dana medallion. Order either the Boom-Boom medallion or the Contemplative Writer medallion. Frame one and hang it on the wall. Drape one over the shower nozzle. Etc. Order now.

Requests for these cast gilt bronze Dana medallions first started coming in to Dana Central offices in Bangkok and Beacon Hill many years ago and finally now we are getting to it (so many trannies, so little time). Although I spend seven
days a week writing, proofing, editing, and researching Thai-farang issues; my real interest is pet turtles. I have over four thousand pet turtles in my one bedroom apartment and they take up a lot of time.

Note: actually, I’m not really 100% sure about the exact number of turtles. Murial died last Thursday, Fin is missing, Conan is missing, Brenda is missing, Wan is missing, Somchai is upside down and not moving. It could be that Somchai's
little legs are not moving because he is dead, or it could be that Somchai's legs are not moving because he has had one too many whiskey drinks in his water cup. Essan turtles are like that. Hard to know. Anyway, it’s an inventory
nightmare. There's a fxxx of a lot of turtles and that’s one of the reasons it has taken me so long to get to these Dana medallions.

There are seven turtles who have eaten their name tags so I can’t tell who is who, I can hear scratching under the bedroom dresser—probably a turtle there, there is a turtle in my sheets on the bed that needs to be identified,
and a there are fourteen escapes from their little turtle bowls piled up in back of the television set because it is warm there. Additionally, my girlfriend Lhadt has found a turtle in the shower, a turtle in the toilet, a turtle in her underwater
drawer (happy turtle, unhappy Lhadt), two turtles fighting to get into a tampon box, and various happy turtles in the dirty laundry bag. Ever seen a turtle with a pair of my old underpants over his head? Happy turtle. We had a turtle named Mr.
Gorm in the aquarium but he has gone missing. The aquarium had a lid held down with a rock. A mystery. Makes me wonder what is happening in turtle land at night when I am sleeping. Nobody is talking. The other day I heard a scream from the kitchen.
Lhadt had opened the silverware drawer and a turtle head popped out.

Ok, forget the goddamn turtles. That's my problem, not yours. Contact this website regarding Dana portrait medals for information about pricing, shipping, insuring, discounting, and monogramming. The time has come and the medals are


Part One of the Dana, Black Candy, Photography series:

I'm checking into the Right Spot Hotel in the alley office just before Soi 16 off of Walking Street in Pattaya and the woman who is checking me in has only one eye right in the middle, one nostril, and one lip. Not sure about her teeth
but I think about it. Her off center shiny black braid tickles the floor, I could put my watch strap around her waist, and her stomach is so flat and so hard you could bounce ten baht coins off of it. Flat tight brown stomachs make me dizzy.

But I can not be seduced right now. I have a backpack full of Leica Fotografie International magazines and the agenda is to just chill out on the Thai style platform bed, play in the huge spa style bathtub, and engage in some R&R with
Ling and Ting and Fong and Fang and Tum and Lum and Da and Fa and Won and Fon. Then I make a life changing mistake. I sign the guest book.

Miss One Eye says:

"DANA–I have been waiting for you and you are right on time. Earthlings are so punctual. Trivial but useful. Your own Albert Einstein, many years ago on a slow day at the patent office in Bern, predicted your arrival. He was a pedestrian
physicist but good at predicting things. I mean–the Theory of Relativity and the Theory of Everything? Give me a break. Universal knowledge is not about theories, it is all about riding the photonic lip or shooting the time tube. Al was no surfer.

Anyway, my name is Black Candy and I am from the planet Zebron in the fourth spiral of the Torndule galaxy in wormhole FX7. I have been sent to recruit you and you will be branded tonight. Go to your room and swim like a seal in the spa tub
and I will be there in an hour. Oh, and by-the-way; I have a mouthful of perfect little white teeth and I know what to do with them."

Me: Jeez, I don't know . . .

Black Candy: It isn't your job to know. Go to your room and do as you are told.

Me: Oh Christ, I'm not sure . . .

Black Candy: We are not having a conversation Earthling.

Me: Okay. I guess.

An hour later and Black Candy shows up and strips naked. She shaves me from the crotch to the neck, bleaches me, dermabrades me, and then:

"Dana I am going to transfer an image of my naked body to your body via my laptop using quantum mechanical data travel, holographic photo pointillism, Torndulean reduction, and plutonium based — ok, the point is it will look like a
tattoo to Earthlings but it will really be a photograph of me on you. We will be bonded and you will be branded. You will never be one of us but you will take direction from us. Tattoos are so yesterday."

And then it started. My toe dipping into photographic present and future beyond my ability to process. Most of it passed in an Earthling blur as Black Candy imprinted a photo of herself into my startled skin. I do remember one thing from
that night of photo branding and recruitment, however; Black Candy had two breasts instead of one. And oh god, sweet Jesus on the cross, oh god what teeth.

When the morning sun started pushing through the drapes I — oops, all out of time. See you next week fellas and we will continue the annals of Dana and Black Candy and photography. Oh, and one more thing; if someone ever comes up to you
and says they have a message from Black Candy–run, run like the wind.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Everybody


I am sure Fa is looking forward to receiving a gift from you this year!

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