Hello everyone. Tonight I present to you the first in a two part series exploring the wonder that is Thailand. Last week the intrepid Bryan Holzer and I ventured west for a bit of R&R from our incredibly hectic normal lives of drinking and doing nothing behind a desk. This is our story.

I said I would only go to Thailand if we agreed to do nothing at all cultural in any way, shape, or form. This meant that under absolutely no circumstances were we to go to any Temple, see any traditional art or dance, view any museum of any sort, any governmental building, or go on any trip (educational or otherwise) that involved the rich cultural history of the Thai people in any way. Bryan consented.

In return he demanded that we only go to areas in which drinking went hand in hand with water, not drinking water, heavens no, that would cut into the beer, just being around water. For instance, a bar inside a pool would be ideal, or a bar on the beach, but a bar near the pool would be acceptable as well. However, a bar near the beach was out of the question because this would involve too many technicalities. I consented. We shook hands, and were soon on our way.

Although we decided to spend two days in Bangkok, four days down south at a beach town called Hua Hin, and then another two at Bangkok, I will, for ease of reporting, split these entries up into Bangkok and Hua Hin. First, Bangkok.

Bangkok smells like poo. It is dirty as sin, hot as balls, and should you have to go pee outside, you will most likely pee on a cockroach. I saw rats scuttle out from under my feet with all of the haste of Katy the World's Fattest Cat (50 pounds). There was sewage everywhere, insane motorcycle riders, and people that would take mopeds out on expressways not only without a helmet, but also with young children sitting sidesaddle behind them, often three or four deep. Lanes don't matter to the cab drivers, who often blazed into oncoming traffic, nor do speed limits. Upon finding an open stretch of road, more than once our drivers clocked in at speeds in excess of 140 km an hour, or about 100 miles, often tearing by these little children on mopeds. As is more often the case, however, you hit traffic that can last for hours on end and that is usually the result of a 20 year old car dying. In the time it takes the authorities to clear it out, 20 more 20 year old cars have just died, and you wait. We waited for two hours once.

Be that as it may, Bangkok is also an extremely fun city, once you realize that absolutely everyone is running their own game, and that they all see you as a fat, lamed goose that shits golden eggs every time it's squeezed. This might not sound too appealing, but you should also realize that the Thai people are very laid back about their scheming. A hustler in Detroit, for instance, might really press you until you feel uncomfortable. They might also be huge and hairy and carry a gun. The hustlers in Thailand are often lazy, always small, and would have hawked a gun if they ever got a hold of one because they are so poor. You just walk by them, or say no, and they give up on you.

You want lady thai to boomboom? Just waaaaaalk on by.
You want lady thai to suck your banana? Just waaaaaaalk on by.
You want see lady thai smoke cigar with pussy? (We did actually get this one) Just waaaaalk on by.
You want lady thai that is man? Just ruuuuuuuun on by.


The first night we arrived we got in at 1am and promptly went out on the town. We told our cab driver to take us to one of the main bar streets called PatPong. He instead took us to a sex club that must pay him to drag customers to them. This was kind of dick of him, because by the time we told the women we didn't want anything to do with them, the driver was gone and we had to walk another five blocks to the bars. He was clearly running his own game.

In that five block walk we were talked to and hooted at constantly. Never in my life have I been so continually harrassed as a male. It was like we were supermodels walking through a construction site. I think Thailand is the only country in the world where women can walk about with a less chance of getting accosted than men. We had at least five people tell us that PatPong was closed, and that if we wanted to drink anything we would have to come to their shady as hell operation up some back alley. They were all clearly running their own game.

Naturally, PatPong was open and kicking. We returned to it several times, and there was always hundreds of people out dancing and drinking in the streets. We sometimes found a nice spot to sit back and take in the scene while sipping on a few beers, but just as often we ended up drinking amongst the multitudes. It was all such a radical change in scene from Japan that despite its shadyness it was very refreshing. Twice, latenight, we ended up at a small, open air bar on a sidestreet that seemed very Thai in that we were the only westerners to be seen. We immediately took this as a fantastic sign, and we were right. For the most part we were able to chill and reflected in peace while drinking lukewarm beer, afraid as we were to put ice in it, which is the custom in Thailand, where the weather melts your face even at night. Once a group of girls sitting behind us turned to me and held out her cellphone.

"What's the problem?" I asked.
"Look."
"At what?"
"Look this. I like this."
"The phone?"
"No, this..."

She clicked a button and her phone started to play several short clips of porn. Bryan leaned over to see what was going on as I got up to go take a leak

"What is it?" He asked.
"Just take a look," I said.

By the time I was half way across the bar I heard him laughing loudly. When I came back she was taking him through all of the moves she could do, via her phone.

"I think she's a stripper," I said.
"I think she might be a bit more than that," said Holzer.
"Is there anyone in this town that is not a stripper?"
"That's a very good question."

These girls were persistent, and one actually tried to pull me away from the cab I was getting in that we caught a short while later outside of the bar. As it turns out, they were trying to run their own game. Even on their off hours.

You might ask if we partook of any of the fine, authentic, Thai food in Bangkok. The answer is no. I tried once and got a bird claw in my noodles. After that I stopped. We did, however, eat at
1: Hard Rock
2: Auntie Anne's Pretzels
3: A&W Rootbeer
4: Burger King

Also, one time we took a short walk from the hotel to see if there were any cool restaraunts or bars nearby and, contrary to our mission statement, ended up near a temple of some sort. We quickly ran away to a Mr. Donut across the street.


On one of our voyages to and from the bars to the hotels we got an especially insane driver. Holzer and I are convinced that this fellow was either drunk or on some sort of upper. He continually asked us if we wanted to stop for hookers, and we continually told him no. This didn't keep him from slowing down by every single one of them he saw along the way, just enough to get their hopes up, then, as they moved over to the cab, he would speed off and laugh hysterically, all the while talking about how you could "Fit whole arm inside thai girl." After six or so of these slow down/speed up escapades he very suddenly became serious.

"You know George Bush?" He asked.
Here we go, I thought.
"Not personally," Holzer said, "why?"
"You know Tony Blair?" He asked.
"Why?"
"BECAUSE I SEE TONY BLAIR BOOMBOOM GEORGE BUSH IN PATPONG GEORGE BUSH ON TOP! HAAAAAAAA!"

And then he hysterically laughed and played his little "mess with the hooker" game once more before slowing down and getting very serious again.

"You know Condi?" He asked.
"Condoleeza Rice?"
"Yes yes, Condi. You know?"
"Dare I ask why?"
"She a virgin. I know," he said.
"I think she was married," Bryan said.
"No no. She no boomboom. I can tell by the way she walk. BELIEVE ME I KNOW THESE THINGS!"

And he sped off.

That, for me, pretty much sums up Bangkok: Generally fast paced, with only the occasional slow down, and always really, really crazy.

On a totally awesome aside, for those of you who watch 24, you will think this is just about the most amazing thing in the world. For those of you who don't, you probably couldn't care less, but regardless, here it is:

I saw Edgar in the Tokyo airport.

Well, at least, I saw the actor who plays Edgar on the show. His real name is Lou Lombardi. Bryan, despite having never seen an episode of 24 in his life, and despite my having seen every single one, told me immediately that "it couldn't possibly be him." So I accosted the man after he got through immigration.

"Excuse me, but are you Edgar from 24?"
"Yeah," he said, in that lispy Edgar voice and with that droopy Edgar smile.
"HOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLYYYYY SHIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTT!" I then said.

I went on to tell him how I loved his work, and that I was a diehard fan. And then I told him ****SPOILER ALERT****** that I was very sad to see his character die off and that I did infact tear up a bit. He said he was sad to have it happen too, and told me to write in to Fox to try and get the Edgar Show going strong. He then laughed an Edgar laugh and told me that they loved Edgar in Japan too. We shook hands, and I even got to snap a photo with him for ye of little faith.


Un-Freaking-Believable.