MISSING SOMEBODY BACK IN BANGKOK

It’s an extended trip for me here. This is supposed to be a 7-day journey but I have to stretch it till the 15th – meaning, I will be spending Valentine’s outside Thailand. *sobs* Here’s an open letter to my baby…



Dear Teerak,

I’m terribly missing you. You know who you are. Look under your foot – I wrote my name on it to claim you as mine. =)

I’m sorry I won’t be home in time for Valentine’s. I really am.

But I’ll send you a hundred roses. And keep one for me. So, you’ll get 99 beautiful red roses.

It may not be enough to say how much you mean to me, but…

... it will say how much I miss you (and how I’ll think of you on Valentine’s while I’m away.)


คิดถึงเธอ,

Pisanu

*** If you miss somebody back in Thailand, surprise 'em with 99 roses this Valentine’s Day. Lots of freebies! Click here to send flowers to Thailand or through the banners on this blog.
Or you can do it for the kids .

Get free website for your blog

DUDE! YOU'RE BLOCKING MY VIEW!

This is a public announcement.

To the dude who owns this red scooter (on photo) and keeps parking next to my slot -- please park somewhere else.

I suggest you do your parking next to a Toyota or a Subaru or something. You are blocking my view, dude. Thank you.

This announcement is posted here because I know the whole building, especially the occupants at 15-34th floors, are reading my blog for some time now (I was told).

If any of you knows who own that dang red scooter, please tell him to MOOOOOVE it!

Thank you.


Your loving neighbor up the penthouse,

Pisanu =)

Pisanu's SMOKEY TALES

A collection of encounters, thoughts and funny tales. These are blog posts too short to have their own titles.



Whenever me and Sofia have to share a hotel room, I am not allowed to smoke in the bathroom. She will bark for hours if she smells the dang smoke when I get out of the pooh-pooh room. Waha!

Just this morning, I accidentally found a solution.

I splattered CreamSilk conditioner (which I bought in Manila) on my hair while secretly smoking in the bathroom. When I opened the door, ready to take the wrath of Sofia...she called out…

“OMG! What shampoo did you use?!! Smells soooo terrific! Smells like fresh flowers in there! I luuurrrrvvv it!”

Haha! Now I can smoke in the bathroom till kingdom come. *and I don’t even know why I posted this. Darn.*

****
Speaking of smoking… anyone of you heard of Champix?

It’s a drug regimen (legal!) which supposed to help you/me/us/them QUIT smoking.

Mother sent me 2 months worth of tablets, because she wanted me to stop the habit but…

Dad emailed me an article from America that Champix is being recalled (?) because it was making users depressed and there were 3 suicide incidences leading to the drug. Side effects include ulcers, loss of vision and vertigo. *I can take the ulcer and vertigo but LOSS OF VISION?!!!!* Yeah, my lungs are healthy but I won’t see any darn thing! Ha!

Ma, I flushed the Champix on the toilet this morning just in case I would have the urge to take it. Thanks anyway.

****
Mother, my brother and other friends including enemies say:

“Quit smoking, $%*&)=+@!!!”

Dad and I say: “Yeah, right. Die anyway."


****
I met a dude on the beach the other day. He looks like a bum – homeless, dirty, skinny, dry skin and all… unhealthy...the total package.

Absolute curious cat that I am…I made an effort to make a conversation with the sickly dude.

“Dude, maybe you should quit smoking till you get well.” I said with genuine concern and much irony to myself.

He said “No, I don’t smoke. Never did.”

“Oh! Ok. Maybe you should stop drinking…or maybe stop going out to parties at night.” I said looking away.

“No, I don’t drink. And I don’t even have money and friends to go out with.”

My vision was blurring in confusion. “You don’t smoke. You don’t drink nor go out to party at night?” I took out my camera-phone…

He shook his head and silently said …”No.” He was looking at my cam-phone.

“You mind if I take your photo? I’ll give you money…”

“What for?” the dude looked straight at me.

“I just wanna show my mother what happens to people who don’t smoke, don't drink and don't party.”

He let me take his photo for US$ 1. Mother, check your email.

****

GOLD FOR PARTYING?

It was one of the best days of my life since…uhm… I don’t know when. AH! Since that search-for-the-legendary-creature-turned-catastrophe in Patagonia, and that row-with-the-rebels in Mindanao Island and…Oh-oh! And that 120-hour-party-marathon in Alia Napa in 2000…and many others. LOL.

I and 27 other BISEANers attending the biggest party on Earth (the Olympics) is one hell of a logistical nightmare. We have to be everywhere and anywhere Southeast Asian athletes are competing – for the first 3 days, at least, anyway.

We had to party with the other camps too, I’m afraid – since most BISEANers are half-this and half-that. Bonding with Belgians, allo-allo with the Frenchies, guten-guten with the Germans, genki-genki with the Japs and many others…we ended up partying for the rest of the Olympics in hotels, pubs, discotheques and just about anywhere with willing strangers! And totally forgot the Olympics is actually a sporting event. *sigh*

I was thinking... if there was an Olympic discipline for PARTYING – I would have bagged Gold for Thailand (or Belgium, whatever). Ha! And mind ya, Sofia would also bag a Gold for SHOPPING and SPA MARAUDING! Haha! And Morgan?...Bronze. He’s just for Bronzes. It’s a no brainer.

Now that the 2-week-long World Party is over (but still suffering galactic hang-over) maybe I guess we can get on our “regular” parties in the region –

Chiang Mai, Phuket, Pasir Mas, KL, Singapore, Surabaya, Cebu, Cagayan de Oro, Vigan, Dalat, Hanoi and Sihanoukville –

HERE WE COME.

A LITERAL BLIND ITEM: Are We Allowed to Help?

Luang Prabang, Laos -- I got up very early in the morning just in time to catch the monks do their morning rounds. They walk about town in a single line, collecting food for the day from Buddhist devotees like me attempting to improve our karma. Get it? Anyways…

I waited and waited at the side of the road, looking left and right expecting a trace of saffron/orange would emerge from afar – sticking my neck out…Nothing. No sign of ‘em.

"This must be a bad location." I said to myself. My eyes gloomily fixed on my offerings in a rattan tray. I got fruits, sticky rice and sets of brand new tooth brush and tooth paste – seems like I’m going to feast on these myself. *sigh*

*cough cough* It’s almost 7.15am…I wanted to give up OR go to the temple myself and give ‘em my offerings personally – But I don’t wanna do that. I wanna stay here on the side of the road and WAIT…

…Suddenly, just across the road from where I was standing -- Two dudes came out from nowhere walking in a single line. No, they aren’t monks. They must be office workers on their way to work -- Yeah, on their way to work. BUT WAIT!

The older dude behind is wearing dark sunglasses and his left arm is on the other dude’s left shoulder, leading him. “Ah! A blind dude!” I mumbled. No walking sticks? Very brave.

I am trying my best not to watch them go about. And I SWEAR – I didn’t mean to stare. No, no. The dude leading him is wearing a school uniform – must be his kid. Yeah, must be his son. And no, I didn’t intend to notice that detail either.

*gasp* they stopped! They are going to cross the road to my direction! Gahd! The kid must’ve seen me staring! Darn! There goes discretion. Whew!

The road is muddy and trickly uneven - patches of water here and there. The lead man stopped right at the edge.

I was carefully watching them (although I don’t intend to, I promise)… My eyes going back and forth from the lead man’s face and the muddy water in front of him…he took a step –

BAM! His right foot is ankle-deep in the mud!

“Whadda?!” I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I WASN’T watching them, remember?

But he wiggled his right foot in the water! “Waaaah! Don’t do that!” I wanted to yell at him. He kept wiggling his right foot on the mud! “Are you mental?!!!” I wanted to run up to him.

He swiftly followed his left foot – SWOOSH! I could hear the water like a tsunami washing my guts away! NOW BOTH HIS FEET ARE ON THE WATER! Hey!

The blind dude behind -- left arm still firmly anchored on his son's left shoulder started to panic! He called out “Wait, wait, wait!” in Laotian and he didn’t know where to look (oops! I didn’t mean to say that!). I mean; he wobbled his head like Stevie Wonder. Yeah, like Stevie Wonder.

ALAS! A great secret was uncovered – the lead man is blind too! A blind leading a blind. What a cliche! Argh!

They both stood right on the same spot for a full minute, talking to each other -- planning a move. Lead man on the water, the tagged-along at the edge -- Then they decided to take 3 steps back and took another spot to cross the road.

That was really something. It caught me off-guard and sricken.

Now, my question is…Since, I have never encountered a predicament like this first hand all my life…ARE WE really ALLOWED TO HELP THEM? I mean when we encounter them like this?

When I had the urge to run to their rescue, the first thing that came to mind was – “What if they don’t wanna be helped?” Those blind dudes must be very proud/independent walking about without sticks or any indication they are actually blind.

If I help -- What if they get offended? Shall I take all their beating till their walking sticks are broken on my body?

Or shall I take all their verbal wrath BUT I would swiftly go right behind them so I won’t be so hurt? They wouldn’t see me anyway!

So tell me, my dear readers… Are we really allowed to help?

****

--Pisanu in Luang Prabang
29 July 2008

AFTER-THOUGHTS FROM 2008 MISS UNIVERSE

There was a bit of “uptightness” */if there’s such a word/ to it. The audience were strangely “behaved”, edgy and there wasn’t much “fans” that came. It was dry, dry, dry as a nerd's convention.

I've been attending Miss Universe & Miss World live for the past years and never seen an event as “bland” as this…

Is it because the lady Vice President was there, sweetie? The President himself snubbed the worldwide event, maybe he was still in bed */it was quite early in the morning/. Sorry to say but there was a bit of “we-are-a-bunch-of-communists” looming above the whole ambiance. I certainly did not enjoy it. No cameras for the non-Press people. Whatever.

Where were the unruly */but fabulous/ Boriqua fans? The Mexicans made their presence known alright but where were the Asian fans? It was more of a diplomats-and-embassy-employees-get-together.

I wasn’t surprised with Thailand’s Best National Costume Award. */It was painstakingly chosen from 897 designs on a national level/ I just knew it would be the one. ไชโย !!!

Although online forum posters “encouraged” massive cheating and rigging the online voting…nope, their candidate did not make it. Sorry, sweetie. MUO has learned their lesson. The Miss Photogenic Award was scraped out because of this. I was told.

From where we were seating... We were quite sure Spain would win. But when she came out with that “fresh-out-of-the-living-room-window” evening gown…we changed our mind and picked the USA. But still...

When she dove butt-first on stage…we shifted to Russia because there won’t be any thrill at all if we chose Venezuela. Venezuela is a safe choice annually.

It was the right girl. Venezuela was loving it. During commercial breaks, she was very natural and at ease. She keeps talking to other candidates unlike Colombia and Dominican Republic who are sooo into the audience. Colombia reminded me of Thalia -- that Mexican soap actress.

During the whole program, Morgan, Pisanu and I, wasn’t choosing where our money went. We bet online for Japan, Korea, Canada and Singapore. Only Japan made it, but not quite enough though. So, we lost $3,000 on betting. Fokken out!

Riyo came out wearing a tux! Japan won’t stop with these “statements” to the last moment, would they? She just landed again in MU history as the first */and only/ to do such! You are forever genius, Miss Ligron -- Utterly genius!

I don’t think Miss Universe would come back to Vietnam soon, sweetie. It was a disaster. It was supposed to be enjoyable, not uptight. It’s about time to bring it to Europe, so the girls won’t be walking around with their sweaty dresses and oily make-ups. */Pfffft!/

-- Sofia in Nha Trang
15 July 2008

GLOBAL WARMING IS A HOAX!

Global Warming isn’t caused by my cigarettes, I’m sorry. Nga. My refrigerator isn’t causing it either, thank you very much.
Nor my SUVs *yes, in plural*, nor my jet ski, nor my JaguarX3, nor my air-conditioning and please leave my Playstation alone! Gaddammit!

I am all out for the environment as long as it makes sense – Plant more trees, recycle, preserve the forests, save the wildlife, responsible garbage dumping, and all those stuffs BUT PLEASE – leave my doodahs alone!

Neptune’s Triton is heating up since 1999 as reported by BBC. Pluto and Charon are extraordinarily heating up since 2002 as reported by Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Jupiter’s Io had a volcanic eruption the same year. Jupiter is also having a time of his life with more storms over there.

In December 2002, ABC reported Mars (our closest inter-planetary neighbour) is warming up too! And last year, Interstars.net reported that Saturn is starting to heat up.

Triton, Pluto, Charon, Mars and Saturn…Do they have SUVs, cigies and Playstation up there? What about air cons and refrigerators, huh? -- Pffft!

Global Warming is a hoax! It’s a FRAUD! Misdirection. Somebody is benefiting from this stupid theory over there in America.

There is a real reason behind it; this “Global Warming” hullabaloo. And your governments don’t want you to know. Well, maybe they don’t know it too *and what’s new with that?*

Based on the latest satellite data cited in a December 2007 article, NASA climate scientist Jay Zwally predicts that nearly all the ice could be gone from the Arctic Ocean BY THE END OF SUMMER 2012.

Take the cue. We did. Why do you think we’ve been to Nepal? – One of the world’s highest places…

2012.

No, it’s not the end of the world – but life, as we know it – will change.

2012 December 21.

Are you ready for the fly-by?


****

WAIT A SEC...YOU'RE CONFUSING ME

Just a few days ago, we were celebrating our 700th-thousand-hits mark...



But our other counter (on the bottom of the page),
which was the original and BISEAN's very first counter, says...



Uhmm...this is confusing.

If the 2nd counter was the original, does it mean that
we're REALLY hitting the million mark in a few hours?

I don't wanna miss the moment.

Can somebody enlighten me on this?


****

UPDATE:



Thank you very much. 谢谢. Terima Kasih.

CHRISTIAN THE LION

Click To Play

****

MY NOSY HOUSEKEEPERS

Most of you may not know – Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand are big importers of Nepali migrant workers. They take mean jobs like sweepers, fast food servers, domestics and others. But they take pride with what they do.

Two of my housekeepers in Bangkok are Nepalese. They have been with me for the longest time and god knows they are the best household workers in the whole dang world *although not the best cooks, that's for sure*

When they knew I was going to Nepal, dinner suddenly got tasty!

“Amrita, what did you put in my chicken curry?” I said without looking at her minding my pleasant dish.

Amrita rushed out of the dining room without answering me. Seconds later, she was tagging Panya…”P’Dekdek?”

I hate it when they call me that. “Pee” in Thai is like older big brother and “dek-dek” is a small little kid – so, which is which?! Godammit!

They must’ve got it from my mom when she calls me “dek-dek” and Amrita and Panya just added the “pee” for respect, I guess. BUT IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE! Ha!

Anyways, they didn’t answer my question about dinner but they posed their own question instead…

“P’Dekdek, *argh! I hate it!*… when are you going to Kathmandu?”

“Ahhh! Checking out my mails again huh?” I said to myself. I didn’t answer them. And how did they know???

“P’Dekdek, is it okay if I send a package to my family?” Panya said, Amrita pinched her at the back. “…and Amrita too.” She continued with unsure smile.

“Ahhh! That’s why dinner suddenly is tasty, isn’t it?” I said again quietly. Now I know.

Isn’t it against the law to carry packages for others? Especially if you have to take the plane? How would I know what’s in the package? Open it secretly? Do I fucken look like a fucken UPS man? Huh! What if they frame me up? Wait! Why would they frame me up? Waaaahhh! – Questions rushing through my head. My brain's yellin' I D O N T W A N N A A A A A!!!

Awkward silence. The sound of cutlery against my china is unbearable to the three of us…

“But you’re not from Kathmandu.” I said with concern. Hoping they would stop this non-sense...

“Yes we are!” they said in chorus. “Our families would meet you at the airport in Kathmandu on Wednesday morning. Please give the packages to them. Thank you!” then both of ‘em rushed out of the room without my reply.

“WELL I’LL BE DAMNED. They even knew my flight schedule?”


****

BISEAN INVADES KATHMANDU | กาฐมาณฑุ

From today to the 30th, BISEAN would be blogging from Kathmandu – 4,500 ft above sea level. Uhm…I didn’t know why I mentioned that “above sea level” thingy… but just so you know when our blog posts go a little mental...there's the culprit. LOL

We wanted to visit Nepal as a new Republic. Because the last time I was here, it was still a Kingdom. The Communists officially took over a few weeks ago – ending the 240-year-old monarchy *sobs*

We took the first flight of Thai Airways at 10:40 this morning and arrived at Tribhuvan Airport around 12:30pm. Thai Airways fly twice daily to Kathmandu.

This city is magical and pleasingly enchanting – just the mention of its name is enchanting enough that a true-blooded traveller would come here at least once a year.

Kathmandu is a world travel icon – no arguing about that. Only the most adventurous, the most cultured, the bravest would come here. Teeming with culture, unpretentious lifestyle and beautiful people -- Not everybody would have the chance to come to Nepal.

As any of our non-SE Asian destinations…the same problem roves above our heads – how can we make this trip connected to our blog’s main topic? *sigh*

We’ll try our best. Watch out for updates.

****

*To mom and dad: Stop the lecture about me coming to Nepal. This is my nth time and I know a lot of people here, so stop worrying about my trips. I love you both – but I don’t miss you yet. *kidding*

THE EURASIAN FAKER ON A RED FERRARI

I stepped out of the gym around 3pm at Jalan Sultan Ismail which is a block away from my loft.

By the way, I don’t really workout, I just watch MTV on the telly monitor to kill time. Anyways…


There’s this flashy bloody-red Ferrari, YES!.. You heard me…a friggin’ Ferrari! -- Parked along the side of the road just in front of Standard Chartered building blinking hazard lights and all.

Nobody’s in the car -- Either he’s applying for gym membership or he’s at the 7-Eleven next door.

Y’KNOW WHA’?! He shouldn’t be parking here! *Me, getting irritated mainly because I don’t have a Ferrari* This is a corner for christssake! N-O-P-A-R-K-I-N-G!


I looked at the plate, ready to call and report to the KL Traffic Police when... *gasp!*… a Thai license plate!!!

OMFG! It’s B1 and B2 in Kuala Lumpur!!!

The brother-sister tandem who is so engrossed on being Eurasians though their parents are pure Thais! *my left eyebrow refused to rise so the right one did the raising. Ha!*

B1 and B2 are notoriously in denial. They would insist of coming from a lineage of Europeans, Australians, Americans, or just about anything “white” including doves and Beluga whales, ha-ha!

And the painful part of it is… they “prefer” to ONLY hang out with “fellow” Eurasians and Luk kreungs much to my group’s irritation. *that nose-job isn’t fooling me dude. Uh-uh!*

Let me explain “irritation” before you leave a bomb on my doorstep or go “high-almighty” on me…

When Eurasians (like the BISEANers) sit together, we don’t talk about being Eurasians or how pointed our noses are. We don’t talk about how long our legs are or how curly our eye lashes gets. No.

We don’t talk about the glory of our white ancestors either -- We’re just ordinary people who talks about nuclear physics, meta-calculus and anthropology – hahaha!

My point is… we don’t talk about being Eurasians. It has nothing to do with us as a person. Period.

Going back to B1 and B2…well, they do all of these. They would give us bullsh*t stories on how they became Eurasians and why we should hang around with them over and over again.

What’s so special with being Eurasians anyway? – Aside from being hot, gorgeous and attractive? *wink wink* Well, B1 and B2 are certainly NOT any of those 3!…So what’s the point?

By the way... forget about that traffic police. 7-Eleven is just next door anyway...

...I wonder how green Slurpee would look on a red Ferrari. Ha!


****

WHY DO OUR NEIGHBORS REFUSE TO VOTE FOR US?

I was just thinking – in a voting system that includes the whole dang world like The New 7 Wonders, Miss World or even regional voting like the Asian Idol…Southeast Asia has a voting power. But why is there always a “left-out”?

A “Left-Out” is somebody you knew will make it but somehow didn’t. A “Left-Out” is a delegate that wasn’t included while his/her neighboring counter part did. A “Left-Out” is a very talented contestant that didn’t get the vote. A “Left-Out” is a country… ok, you got the picture.

When “critters” leave evil and cruel comments on our blog -- I am more disappointed than irritated. Why? Because these critters leave tracks where they came from. They disgrace their country more than themselves!

So what’s my point? Here…

Why would other countries vote for your candidate when they have a bad impression on the kind of people you are which you yourself projected?

How can you expect a vote when all they hear from your country are criticisms, insensitivity and arrogance?

What can we do about it?

Don’t tolerate “critters”. If you know they come from your country, let them know it’s not alright. Expose them if possible.

You are an ambassador of your people as much as I am to mine. What we do mirrors how we are as a nation. *I know it sucks, but that’s reality*

How do you want the world to view your country?

Be nice.

****

"I am a Bisean."

I got so much respect for the nomadic peoples of the world. There is no single place they call home and roam around as if the whole world is their “proverbial” home. The Bedouins of the Middle East, the Mongols and of course, the Gypsies of Europe whom I share part of my blood.

My friends and I were talking the other day about our life being nomads. I have been doing it for the past 10 years and some of them have been doing it for 5 -- Living in Southeast Asia as if it is just one single country.

So how do you call the nomads of Southeast Asia?

The closest are our Sea Gypsies. The Badjaos of Malaysia, the Philippines, Brunei and Indonesia are the largest group. The Mokens of Thailand (Chao Ley) and Burma are the 2nd biggest group. But we can’t call ourselves Badjaos or Mokens, can we? Because it is obviously ethnicity-based.

If we use the term SEA Gypsies, which obviously stands for South East Asia, we might be confused with the Badjaos, Orang Laut or the Mokens – we certainly don’t look like ‘em! Thank you very much.

So we came up with a solution: Let it be known from this day forth, that we are coining the word “Bisean” as the modern day nomadic peoples of Southeast Asia.

There. Take that!

****

ANNOUNCEMENT

Starting 25th of February, BISEAN would be blogging from Beijing, China.
It would be our new base till December.


This means less travel to Southeast Asian countries (except Thailand), less parties in KL, Singapore, Bali, Saigon, Manila, etc. But of course, BISEAN would still be blogging about everything Southeast Asian.

Sofia and Morgan was offered modeling contracts in China.
BECAUSE I JUST BOUGHT IT! *the agency, I mean*


Thanks for your time.

****

A LUNCH WITH PHILIPPINE POLITICIANS

BISEAN sitting down with a couple of Philippine politicians at lunch watching a “hearing” in the Senate about some corruption scandal against the government.




ON TV:

Star Witness: “Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah. Smiles. Blah, blah, blah.

Accused: “Blah, blah, blah.”

Star Witness: “Blah, blah. Yaddi -yaddi -da-da”.

This went on for like half an hour.


ON OUR TABLE:

All quiet, trying to focus on the proceedings. Sofia forking her dessert, Morgan studying the center-piece flowers and I… having a headache trying to decipher the Filipino words they are saying…

When the Star Witness’ face was focused again on the TV, Tommy blurted out…

“HE’S A BIG LIAR! Can’t they see it? The eye movements, the muscles on the cheeks, the lingering of words! He’s lying! His shoulders gave it away! He’s making up stories!”

Every one on the table was startled. Tommy didn’t know that all those politicians on our table are pro-Star Witness and against the government.

Hahaha!

Frankly…I also know that witness is adding and sensationalizing facts! Tommy is a Doctor of Psychology. He’ll spot a lie even before you open your mouth.

****

WOULD YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?

Before you answer that question like a Miss Universe finalist determined to win, listen to my story first sweetie…

My friends and I went to this very interesting place called Narmada a few minutes away from our hotel. This is one of Lombok Island’s many Hindu temples.

In the garden grounds, there’s this curious fountain called “the Fountain of Youth”. Hindu devotees believe that it would give longer life to anyone who drinks it. OMG sweetie! I felt excited! But not really…

As Morgan and Pisanu appeared to take a sip of the “enchanted” water, I took a step back – what if it’s true? What if I indeed live longer than I should? What if I drink too much than required – what’s the dosage? Would it keep me young or I’ll still go old but I won’t die for like 300 years?!! It was a fokken dilemma, I tell you. Not to mention it looks filthy, sweetheart.

So what I did was… I emptied my Evian bottle, refilled it with the "alleged" enchanted water…

....and keep it till I get my answers.

Who knows?


O'right sweeties... for those who can't wait to answer the question posted on the title; you may do so on the comment section. And don't forget your poise. Fokken out! LOL

EVERYBODY’S HAPPY, EXCEPT ME

Hello sweeties and thank you for dropping by our blog. I wasn’t blogging anything much lately so I decided to write something for the heck of it.

For those who didn’t know; Pisanu, Morgan, Tommy, Sucre et moi flew back home from Laos last Saturday for the annual Leela-Anont Family get together-slash-raffle-draw-slash-car-extravaganza. Fokken out!
Here…let me expound it for ya, sweetie…

Every first Sunday of February of every year, all of Pisanu’s relatives come to Bangkok because he gives away cars and SUVs he used in the past year. This year, he gives away 6! Gives away – did you hear me? G-i-v-e-s a-w-a-y! And what I’m upset about is I didn’t get any! Don’t laugh. I’m dead serious honey.

I have to fly back to Bangkok to witness this crazy event? For what? Nothing? Not even a stupid Expedition? Nothing for me?!

What I’m so upset about is…once Pisanu is on a car-buying-spree again, he’ll drag me with him to all the car dealers around the city. And what does it make me feel? He can buy and I can’t? That bast*rd!

Here’s a tip for those new friends of Pisanu. Never ever tell him your dream car. Because he’ll buy it and make you jealous till you throw up. What kind of human is he? B*tch!

Anyway, so much for the free cars. We’re off to Indonesia tomorrow till Friday. Then the Philippines for a few days then Malaysia and Vietnam. That is, if there won’t be anymore of that stupid car give away extravaganza. Pffft! What a show off.

THE HOUSE WHERE A VIETNAMESE LIVES

The last time I visited my grandparents in Ayutthaya was April last year. So I went for a visit today. It's an hour drive from Bangkok. And as usual, I came unannounced because I don’t want the whole town waiting for me at the gates.

Ayutthaya, for those who don’t know…is the ancient capital of Thailand with lots of historical ruins, old ancestral houses and quite sleepy. Ok? Ok.

This is also a chance to see the old house again where “lives a Vietnamese.” A very curious house I have to pass by on my way to grandma’s.

When I was a kid, mother and I used to pass that old house. She would always point to the second floor and say: “There, lives a Vietnamese.” She always does this each and every time we pass the darn house as if a 6-year old kid gives a sh*t! *Ha!*

So, like an experimental chimp in a laboratory, mother conditioned my brain that “There, lives a Vietnamese.” *Ok, ok! I got it! Shut it already!* – And now that I’m grown up, I still remember that “There, lives a Vietnamese.” Although I never have actually seen the Vietnamese she was talking about. Duh!

Grandmother, as usual, is tending her acres and acres of orchids when I arrived…

“Hello, grandma.” I went to hug and kiss her.

She frowned. She hates it when I don’t "wai" and greet her in Thai. I could almost taste dinner as extra-extra-extra hot later on. This is her way of letting me know she’s pissed. She adds more chilies to the already hot-as-hell food to get me.

To calm her down, I spoke in Thai… (But for your sake, I’ll write it in English)

"Grandma, does the Vietnamese still lives in that old house down the road?"

Without looking at me, still tending her darn orchids, she said annoyed “Can you stop doing that stupid accent?”

"What accent?”

“That! That accent! Speak proper Thai. Didn’t your mother teach you proper Thai?” I can tell from where I’m standing, grandma is pissed.

“Grandma, I just wanna know if that Vietnamese still lives there. Why are you so angry?” I said softly trying to calm her down.

She ignored me, silent treatment. This is how they are -- traditional old people want you to submit to them. Ok, I’ll play the game…

In a calm voice, I said slowly “Grandma, I just wanna know if that --“

“What Vietnamese?!!” She retorted.

*sigh* “That old house that mother used to tell me when I was a kid, over and over, that a Vietnamese lives there.” I said trying my best Thai intonation. “Maybe he was a refugee in the 70s war?” I added, winking my eyes trying to be cute.

“Why would she tell you that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” Keeping my Thai enunciation in perfect form.

“Tell you what?”

*sigh* “If that Vietnamese still lives there! GRANDMA!” I said the ‘grandma’ part with a little hint of impatience, so I brazed myself for retaliation. I looked away.

Then grandma spoke in a manner of a true Thai aristocrat... her choice of words were obsolete and will haunt me forever…

“I lived all my life in Ayutthaya. On this same road, on this same house….”

I was listening intently, mesmerized. Then she continued…

“There was no Vietnamese that ever lived in that house.”


MOTHER, I KNOW YOU ARE READING THIS.

I WANT A WRITTEN EXPLANATION. NOW!

WHADDA?!...

Maybe some of you have noticed the Medal Tally right up there on the right hand side corner of the screen – the BISEAN [Sx] Games.

What the f*ck is it?... EXACTLY! It’s about f*ck.

Well, we started a little game among BISEANers who among us can sleep with the most number of gorgeous people in 2 weeks. Hey! We need to occupy our time! You got better idea? – None? So shut up. *and if you do, I don’t wanna hear it =)*

Anyways, none of us can go out partying alone. There’s a buddy system implemented to validate the “claim” for the day. Cheaters would be stripped, castrated and fed to the metrosexuals. *Eeew! Yuck!*

The winner would get bragging rights for the whole year and get to slap Mrs. Shinawatra on the face (optional, of course).

The gold, silver, and bronze medals are all explained right under the tally.
Any questions?

****