Go create your own!
(thx jose)
Tribute to School of Rice
First of all, let me explain my recent absence from here: I was busy, and now I’m sick.
Moving on:
It’s too bad I took down the School of Rice (which now lives here), because this photo would have fit so well there….
The abomination created by the kid across the street.
Just to let you know, a few weeks ago, the 18″ high rear spoiler somehow got torn off, ripping half the trunk along with it. When it came back from the shop, the original black sticker set was augmented with this bold fashion statement. My only guess is that the owner must have decided to go “VIP” instead of racing style.
To proactively answer a few questions:
- Yes, the owner is a girl.
- Yes, she is older than 13.
- No, she’s not hot.
- Yes, the car is automatic.
- Yes, it’s a Lancer (lowest spec).
- No, it was not featured in Tokyo Drift (although it should have been).
Right Angle
The photos on this page are good for a quick laugh.
(thx Tim)
Small commenting change
Due to a huge spam attack yesterday, which took me a while to clean up, I’ve decided to add a small step to commenting – the good news is that it’s very easy for anyone to figure out. You can still comment anonymously and without leaving an email address, but I’m sorry to place any part of the burden created by viagra-selling assholes on my readers… Necessary evil and all that.
Hogshit
This is one of the most disturbing articles on the environment I have read in recent months:
If the temperature and wind aren’t right and the lagoon operators are spraying, people in hog country can’t hang laundry or sit on their porches or mow their lawns. Epidemiological studies show that those who live near hog lagoons suffer from abnormally high levels of depression, tension, anger, fatigue and confusion. “We are used to farm odors,” says one local farmer. “These are not farm odors.” Sometimes the stink literally knocks people down: They walk out of the house to get something in the yard and become so nauseous they collapse. When they retain consciousness, they crawl back into the house.
and
Smithfield is not just a virtuosic polluter; it is also a theatrical one. Its lagoons are historically prone to failure. In North Carolina alone they have spilled, in a span of four years, 2 million gallons of shit into the Cape Fear River, 1.5 million gallons into its Persimmon Branch, one million gallons into the Trent River and 200,000 gallons into Turkey Creek. In Virginia, Smithfield was fined $12.6 million in 1997 for 6,900 violations of the Clean Water Act — the third-largest civil penalty ever levied under the act by the EPA. It amounted to .035 percent of Smithfield’s annual sales.
(full story here)
On the brighter side of things, yesterday, I saw a pig that grew up in someone’s front yard slaughtered with a sharp knife and sold off in pieces, just like they do everywhere else in the third world. To me this kind of pig actually tastes natural.
(thx M)
Bangkok Bombing Update
The Australian is reporting that the New Years bombings in the capitol were the work of Jemaah Islamiah. Originally the focus of investigation seemed to be on the former (Thaksin’s) regime; now they seem to be coming to the conclusion everyone else came to thirty seconds after the explosions: Muslim separatists from the south (Religion of Peace reprazent!)
Full story here.
I went to a local carnival yesterday (which I hope to write about soon) and was surprised to find so few people in attendance. Asking around this morning, it seems many people are afraid to go to big events now because of bombs. That’s just fucked. I, myself, think there is a 0% chance of that kind of shit happening here, and the fear response is just what the baby killers want… Fuck that.
Komarizushi
(thx jo)
Shave and a Haircut
I have found "my" new barber shop. I had a hard time finding a good place here at first; I made the mistake of trying beauty salons when really all I wanted was a barber shop. I had the same problem in Japan, and come to think of it, Japan was really horrible in this regard because if you walk into the wrong place, you might end up being there for hours (literally – my longest "stay" in a "fashionable" place was OVER 3 HOURS!). This is because they take service to a ridiculous level and serve you coffee before and maybe after your cut, plus sometimes take up to an hour for a simple hair cut (I once got so angry at the guy for taking so long and being so precise that I waited until he was done and told him to take off another 0.75 millimeters all around)! The funny thing is, a shave and a haircut is about all you can get in Japanese beauty salons.
Here in Thailand you can get a manicure, a pedicure, a massage, a facial pack, etc., etc., and so forth. Interestingly enough, however, you cannot get a handjob from an old lady like you can in Korea (or so I’ve heard).
So like I was saying, I found my new place here. Since it’s a men’s only barber shop, it’s no nonsense and offers none of the extras I mentioned above, but it’s fast. I sit down in one of the two chairs and walk out freshly shorn in fifteen minutes. Nothing new here, I found similar shops in Japan that I frequented. The difference is in the price – I was shocked when I found out. It costs me 40 baht ($1.10 US) for a shave and a haircut in Thailand.
Ganked
I haven’t read a newspaper since I stepped off the airplane last October, simply because I think it’s an obsolete format for news. As it turns out, not many people I meet around here read the newspaper, either. News around these parts travels by word of mouth, quicker than you might imagine.
The other day I was shocked to hear that a policeman in a nearby town had been beaten to death by a local gang. The cop, who was in his fifties and off duty at the time, had asked a group of around 20 youths to keep it down at a restaurant. They responded by rushing his table and stomping his head, which may or may not have killed him outright. The thing is, they didn’t stop at that. They threw the man into the back of a pickup and sped off down the road. There were witnesses who called the police, but no one could identify the youths or the victim, and the police pursued the issue no further at the time.
One full day later, the family of the victim contacts the police to file a missing person report, and the police put two and two together. They suddenly realize one of their own has been assaulted and is missing, and a search effort is started… The desecrated and bullet-ridden body of the victim is soon discovered dumped over a nearby bridge. It is presumed that the perpetrators, having gone through the victim’s pockets, suddenly realized he was a cop and panicked, dumping the body in an obvious place.
///
In any other country I’ve been in, this story would have ended in pretty much the same way. The perpetrators would have been hunted down in a massive police effort to avenge one of their brethren. But there’s a Thai twist to all of this. The police are singularly unsuccesful at apprehending even a single suspect out of the 20 or so reported, so the family decides to take things into their own hands, in the only way they know how. They bring the body of the fallen officer to a kind of spirit medium, a ghost talker mystic who not only claims to be able to speak with the fallen, but to be able to influence events in the real world. The seance is performed and the fallen officer is successfully contacted.
The next day, two of the attackers suddenly turn themselves in. The rest are being rounded up by the police, now that they have some place to start.
///
My mother in law told us this story two days ago. Yesterday, she attended the funeral for the policeman, who turned out to be an old family friend.
This is all very new to me, but none of the Thais who heard this story thought there was anything strange about it.