Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes Part 399
Hello Dana fans and Stickmanbangkok. com fans: today a multiple piece submission. We start with a DANA NOTE of importance to all Dana fans, then a short Preface of a personal nature followed by an article and a story. So we have a Dana Note, a Preface, an article, and a story. Who loves you baby? Dana does.
After the publication of Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes — Part 400 Dana Enterprises will be making available commemorative T-shirts in honor of the publishing event. There will be three colors offered: black, grey, and pink. There will be five sizes: large, very large, very very large, ex-pat fat, and farang huge. Contact Stickman for ordering details. Do not talk to one of his office minions or interns. There have been incidents. Just sayin'.
Anyway, with a belt your Thai lady friend will be able to wear these commemorative T-shirts as dresses. Also useful to her as nightwear and beachwear. The farang huge size can be used on a water buffalo calf. You will, of course, wear these T-shirts as talismans of pride, involvement, and uber hipness. I expect to see many fellow mongers wearing them at the annual Dana Look-a-Like contest held at the Mickey Mouse Underpants Bar on Third Road in Pattaya. If you send in pictures of yourself wearing one of these commemorative T-shirts while standing on a remote mountain top, or dining in a four star European restaurant, or surfing in Indonesia, or getting married in Rome we may publish it in the Dana Enterprises newsletter.
On the front and on the back in block letters the T-shirts will say:
I SURVIVED 400 THAI THOUGHTS AND ANECDOTES
This commemorative T-shirt will be a part of the 'I SURVIVED . . . ' series already populated by:
I SURVIVED MY FIRST THAI GIRLFRIEND
I SURVIVED EMMA THE TRANNY
I SURVIVED THE VISIT TO HER VILLAGE
Contact Booger, Ran, or Yogurt at Dana Enterprises on South Pattaya Road for price and shipping information if you can not get this information from Stickman. Deep discounts for Dana Fan Club members. You knew that.
Sincerely yours, Dana
P. S. T-shirts that say STAY AWAY FROM FA are available from the South Pattaya Road office for free. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem.
Are you like me? Do you have in your office and at your home over 400 statues and statuettes of penguins? Porcelain, and clay, and glass, and plastic, and stone, and wood penguins? Penguins that are very small for key chains and enormous full sized taxidermied penguins? Of course you do. Everybody is like me. No: wait a minute; maybe they are peacocks. Not penguins, but peacocks. Ok, they are either penguins from Antarctica or peacocks from Antarctica, but that is not really the point.
And Fa? Every time I say penguin, she says peacock. I think. Maybe I have been in this country too long. Anyway, the point is . . . ok, I 'm not really sure what the point is. Too many goddamned penguins and one full sized stuffed spook is starring at me right now. But that is not really what I want to talk about anyway. What I really want to talk about today is:
We've all got life numbers. They can either be happy little parasites to your life that you do not mind carrying around or they can be parts of your life that stick and burn like napalm reminding you of failings, regret, and humiliation. Sometimes life numbers are a good thing. Anyway, we've all got them. Here are some of mine that come to mind while I am sniffing coffee beans in the upscale Whole Foods grocery store in my neighborhood.
Day 947 since I last received an email notifying me that "Obviously you don't know what it takes to get published."
Day 1029 since I received an email stating that my writing stinks and that I stink. I'm calling this progress.
Day 2 since I received an email notifying me that any writer that does not have an editor rewrite his writing is a faggot.
Day 2052 since I last received an email from a bargirl asking for money. "The water buffalo needs a hernia operation and momma needs the foreskin on her penis removed." I stopped handing out my web address to bargirls many years ago.
Day 2543 since the girl who sells me Viagra at the pharmacy on 2nd Road in Pattaya sent me an email. It seemed out of character for her to do so and she only did so once. A mystery. I'd think it is possible that she got me confused with another man but of course we know that is not possible. Like I said, a mystery.
Day 64 since our last request (request number 9) came in for an application to the Dana Fan Club from Bengali Clodfupt of Timaru, New Zealand. This one was attached to a big giant weather balloon so that we would not miss it here at Dana Central in the Rajah building here on Soi 4 in Bangkok. Mr. Clodfupt, we know who you are and the weather balloon made the office dogs bark. Please stop doing this. Anyway, many aspire, but few are chosen.
Day 4 since I have needed Viagra. Ok, a little confession here. I don't actually need Viagra but I use it. It is really a research project. I just take it so that I can provide scientific data to other men. Yeah, that's right; it's a research project.
Day 449 since I received an email asking if the Church of Dana is real. Yes, it's real Mr. Dogleash Fimby of Turd-on-Grass, England. And no, you can't jump with the Sky Tranny team.
Day 56 since I have sent an email (one of twenty-six emails) to Emma-the-Tranny of Pattaya. No responses to my cries for help. I guess she must be back in Tokyo dancing naked in front of hotel windows for Tojo Murata. He tapes a small teddy bear plush toy to her wing wang and then shoots at it with a paint ball pistol. He's got videos of this but he won't sell them to me. Why are people so unkind?
Day 18 since I used a catapult to send a Pattaya lady of the commercial kind screaming into the starry night. Honk if you love to laugh like a hyena.
Day 17 since Stickman has emailed to remind me that I owe him money and he would appreciate it if I would repay him. I do not owe him any money. Sweet Jesus on a cracker.
Ok, Dana fans; there are a few of my Life Numbers. What are your Life Numbers like? Write them up and send them in. And don't sleep with full sized stuffed penguins. I'm just sayin' is all.
MOUNTAINSIDE BUDDHIST TEMPLE
Nothing has been the same since she left and I have missed her terribly every single day. Her legs up on a chair in the morning sun as I serve her breakfast on the balcony and try to get her to try my latest fish paste discovery, the sound of her voice in the wholesale markets as she tells the girls she isn't going to pay this price and she isn't going to pay that price for the curtain material we are looking for, watching her small soft hands rip and tear at lobster shell as we eat over the water in Pattaya. Ex-pats and others told us that living together would never work. We were too different. But we have been together now for years. Bliss.
But my days of missing her are soon to be over. I'm going to Bhumi airport to pick her up. She is returning to the Kingdom and to me. To us. Soon, we'll be together again: sharing stories, laughing, discovering new things to do together and repeating the old things that are part of the tapestry of our lives. She emailed me and told me that as soon as she got back to Pattaya she wanted to go to Ko Larn and visit the mountainside Buddhist temple. I think it is a great idea. I have thought about doing it for years but always got sidetracked by beach and boating stuff. Anyway, we'll go over on the public ferry and then get the mother and son who run a store across the street from the ferry landing to take us to the temple. I'll ride on the back with my arms around the mother, and she will ride on the back with her arms around the big handsome Thai son. Simple pleasures. When we get to the temple she'll talk to the monks and take pictures. I'll find a place to sit and look over the land and the sea.
I'm at the airport now and . . .
"Oh god, she's there. I can see her coming towards me."
The flight from Japan was right on time and landed precisely at 11:55 p. m. Midnight and humid and hot for this time of night but no matter. I can see her. She's striding directly at me and smiling directly at me. A fifty thousand watt smile just for me. Sandals, tight capri pants, Indian top with exposed stomach, lots of jewelry, and nothing in her hands. She doesn't believe in carry-on luggage. She believes in elegance and the erect posture of the confident woman.
Oh god, my heart is about to burst. My life has come back to me. I can't believe that God gifted this woman to me. I'm starting to lose control. I am going to do an uncool Thai culture thing and just explode with happiness. I am going to shout out and call attention to myself and I don't care.