My Achilles Buttock

You know, despite my long-term cancer risks, I’m DEETing myself everyday to avoid mosquito bites that cause ridiculous swelling because I am intensely allergic to the saliva and to keep the risk of contracting ailments such as dengue fever (however slight the chance). I spray everywhere that could possibly be exposed. Why would I spray my ass? It is always covered.

Some bugger just bit my ass. I now have a welt the size of a half dollar the exact same shape as Spain (or France – bear with me) that threatens to become a third buttock. You know how you’re not supposed to put your wallet in your back pocket because when you sit on it, it misaligns your spine and is thus bad for your back? This might be worse, and tenfold at that.

On top of that, my wireless is ridiculously inconsistent and unreliable (down for most of the week). Fuck you, TOT! A little competition might do you good, because your service sucks. My cousins Seng has been bitching about it for the past week (“Er, my notebook…does not work, no internet!”). I’m glad, because then I can just echo him rather than sounding ungrateful and American.

Seng: “The service, it is…very bad. Always down. The operator is no good.”
Me: “HEAR YE!”
Seng: “Pardon? What did you say?”
Me: “I think what you said, it is very correct.”
Seng: “Mmmm….”

Last night, Seng and I discussed how his daughter Bing Bing, age 6, was sick -
Me: “Is she okay?”
Seng: “Yes, she just have uh…poo poo. Many poo poo. Very soft.”
Me: “Ahh…diarrhea. [nod vehemently] I know how that feels.”
Seng: [confused, silent nodding]

Then the subject moved to politics via a discussion on how many Americans do not bother to learn a second or third language compared to the rest of the developed world, resulting from years of unchallenged hegemony.

Seng: “I think your president, he is very…aggressive, yes?”
Me: “I agree. He is also very stupid. Please don’t forget stupid.”
Seng: “I wonder what is behind his being aggressive and why he is so stupid?”
Me: “Too much Jesus.”
Seng: “Pardon?”

Ha ha, I almost don’t want to learn any Thai because the whole Lost in Translation sort of experience is somewhat amusing. Only somewhat. Bill Murray merely suffered through a couple of weeks. Try six months, bitch! Try six months of terrible pop music!