Stupid People Speak Stupid Too

Around the world Government officials go to the same school. They wear the same clothes. Their families are interconnected by marriage. This inbred clique has produced a strain of humanity whose intelligence rivals a collie and back in 2009 the Phuket Land Director revealed his venal acumen by announcing that any foreigners using their wives as Thai nominees to buy land anywhere in the country will have their land title deeds revoked if caught. This statement was issued during a 30-province tour aimed at improving the public image of land officials by insuring they washed their hands after going to the bathroom and wore the right clothing for dealing with the powerless masses from Bannok, who have complained that the process of obtaining a land deed can take up to a year instead of a day.

The former governor of both Phang Nga and Samut Prakan provinces was satisfied by the officials' promises to speed up their work by 30%, meaning that applicants will only have to wait for 9 months if all goes well, but not wanting to rest on this success he ventured into unknown territory by raising the the old chestnut that farangs were to blame with the hold-up.

“If the Thai spouse has enough money to buy the house that is fine, but if the Thai has no money and uses money given to him or her by a foreigner to acquire property, that is against the law. If we check and find out later that a Thai person has been using money from a foreigner to buy land anywhere in Thailand, we will revoke title deeds."<

That announcement did wonders for the moribund housing market and boosted condo sales.

In the following years the Interior Minister has been promoted to a high posts where his inadequacies can further the cause of economic instability like Overseer of Land Deeds.

Now that's Purgatory.

El Phoenix Room - Boston

My friend Jorge posted this photo and I thought 'pink elephant'.

Only one place had one and it was in Brighton, Mass.

In college I drank in Concannon and Sennetts', a Commonwealth Avenue establishment with a mural of a naked woman riding a pink elephant over the bar. The dive offered draft 'ganseets at 25 cents and drinks for $1. A quarter bought three pinball games and got the same amount of songs from jukebox for two-bits. The regulars were Irish trolley drivers and the girls attended BU.

The Irish owners ran the El Phoenix Room, a Mexican restaurant up the short step of stairs. The old cook was a one-armed woman from Monterrey. I tasted my first tacos and enchiladas there. Rosa served the spiciest food in Boston for years.

It closed years ago.

There is no trace of the El Phoenix Room online.

Ah, the memories.

The owners also had a bar underneath the Forest Hills train station.

Another Concannon and Sennetts'.

Neither dive is there anymore.

Ah, the memories.

Cold As A Witch's Teat

Tonight's weather has been predicted to be the rainy, which will certainly be better that New Year's Eve 2018, the coldest end of the year in the history of New York.

I've been in other cold nights in this city.

Most memorial.

1971.

Doctor Nick, Wayne Shephard, Eddie Mickie, and Wayne's sister drove up to Central Park for concert.

In Nick's Mini-Cooper.

Eddie weighed 450.

He sat in the front.

The biggest man this side of Andre the Giant.

We parked by the Plaza Hotel. The cold wind was sharp as an ice razor. Every exhalation hung as frost before our faces. It was deep winter.

Eddie walked about two-hundred paces and then sat on a bench.

"I can't make it any farther."

"To the concert," asked Wayne.

"Either way." He was hyperventilating hard.

"You cold?"

"No, I just can't walk no more."

"Not in this weather."

We retreated from the park and returned to Eddie house.

It was nice and warm.

Tonight it's raining and I'm thinking of staying in, but there's always a chance I might gone out.

I do like the nightlife.

Ambroseli Safari - Kili Initiative 2019 # 19

My night after the goat intestine soup was a rough one. I lost count of how times I hit the toilets and blew my chips in the bushes. Ma'we came out once and asked, "You want to go to hospital?"

I shook my head.

"I've only been to the hospital once in my life. At birth. I'll be fine."

Dawn came with the preacher man ranting in tongues across the valley and my stomach was raging with revulsion. I emerged from my tent to another visit to the WC.

Jubbah, Jackman, and Larry were waiting outside.

"Are you okay," asked Larry.

"I'm fine. Just an upset stomach."

"No, M'zee, you sounded like a sick lion all night," Jubbah commented with a smile. "Better a sick lion than a hungry lion."

The word 'sick' spurred my guts and I ran back inside.

I walked up to the dining room filled with trepidation.

JM said, "We are going to do the safari today."

"I

might stay here." I buttered toast and poured a sugary milky tea. I knew better than to try anything else.

"No, you should come. Everyone comes to Kenya to go on safari."

"Or the WC."

"That too, but I'll make sure you are okay. Just drink water and everything will be good."

The Nile explorer Richard Burton was unable to walk on their second trek to the great lakes of Africa. Speke was blind due to an ear infection. Both men lose weight. I had been suffered from intestinal parasites in the Himalayas and the Yucatan, but nothing like this.

I fortified my body and soul with two Guinness on the advice of David, the Kibo Slopes bartender.

"You are Irishman. Guinness is good for you."

That was the truth and I joined the 2019 Kili Initiative 2019 team for the safari. The sky overhead was clear of clouds. I was going on safari and got in a van chanting, "Lions, tigers and bears."

No one got it.

"The Wizard of Oz."

Old films for young people don't exist before 2005 and I recounted Dorothy's adventures in Oz on the thirty minute drive to Ambroseli National Park.

We stopped at the entrance. The team checked out the souvenirs, while I visited the WC. When I emerged, JM said, "There will be no getting out of the vans in the park. No tigers or bears, but there are lions."

"Will we see a pride?"

"If we are lucky."

The first European to penetrated the area heard the feared tribesmen call the plain Empusel or 'salty, dusty place'. Ambroseli is larger than Rhode Island or Delaware. The dry lakebed is watered by several large swamps, creating a home for the African bush elephant, Cape buffalo, impala, lion, cheetah, spotted hyena, Masai giraffe, Grant's zebra, and blue wildebeest.

Our first sighting was a giraffe.

Zebras.

And then there were elephants.

Lots of elephants.

With little babies napping in the dusty sun.

Natalia ahhed their cuteness.

"I just want to go out and pet them."

"I wouldn't do that."

I knew elephants from Thailand.

Old Yai was my good friend.

He loved my mango tree more than me.

"Best for you not to leave the van," warned JM.

I agreed and told the team in our van about Peter Beard getting gored by an elephant in Kenya.

Peter Beard had recounted the incident to a movie star. "So anyway, there was an amazing gaping hole and there was no blood coming out of it by the way, but I couldn’t see it. I got splintered hips. I didn’t get speared, ’cause I couldn’t see the thing."

"I'm not getting out of the van," answered Natalia.

We passed a lone Gnu.

I always liked Gnus. They were an easy score in Scrabble, but I asked, "You know what is between the toes of elephants?"

"What?" asked Jubbah.

"Slow running people." Elephants have a top speed of 25 MPH, although the pachyderms don't corner well.

"No one is getting out of the van." JM repeated his mantra.

Roads led off the safari guest lodges. People with money stayed there.

My stomach was in turmoil.

I wanted so badly to relieve myself with a nice WC.

A tusker shook his head. I held my fluids.

Damned goat intestine soup.

The road ran straight.

I checked my nausea.

Jubbah pointed out a pride of lions.

"The cubs are so cute. I want to pet them," said Natalia.

"No leaving the van," admonished JM. He lived in Loitokitok. He understood the danger of lions. "They are not pets."

Humans were more dangerous, but I said nothing, however I didn't think any animal wanted to eat someone as sick as me.

Elephants meandered toward the swamp.

Water was life.

For everyone everywhere.

I spotted a big tusker.

"His name is Tim," explained Ma'we. "His tusks are over five feet long."

He wouldn't have lasted a day outside the park.

Poachers loved tuskers.

Tim wandered away from the road.

The lakebed was as flat as Kansas.

We stopped at a rest area. The hill gave a great view of the plains. I spent most of the time in the WC.

Vanessa asked if I was better.

"I lied and said, "Much better."

All I wanted was to lie down in bed or be in a toilet.

The vista pavilion offered a 360 degree view of the park.

The team was happy to be here. They were all friends now. I was a friend too. M'zee. Very old, very sick, but one of the team.

Daima or always.

Fast Steve said it was time to go.

I was the first person in the van.

Even with a stop at the WC.

I had had enough of lions, elephants, giraffes, and baboons.

Sadly, not not enough of WCs.

They were my best friend.

Christmas Truce

Peace on earth.

I'm declaring a Christmas Truce on all bad thoughts.

Enjoy.

Happy XXXMas

Bordelle, the high-end lingerie line, came out with Christmas delights. One 18K-plated girdle dress will cost over $7000 in London's Selfridges department store.

There are less expensive options for a rich man to offer his mistress.

Fashion stylist Sasha Lilic asked, "Would you spend $7000 on lingerie?"

My answer was simple.

"I'd spent it to take off lingerie."

But I only have $200 in the bank, so for now I have to be happy with looking at $7000 on the flesh.

I have a good enough imagination to furnish the pleasure of giving and taking.

Plus I've been nice than naughty this year, although more out of laziness than choice.

Trump Tantrum - Go Fuck Yourself

Throughout his presidency Donald Trump has communicate with friend and foe through twitter.

He has set thousands of terribly short tweaks.

I've not read one.

Then again I've never read anything from a Tweating Twitter.

Ok-Boomer yeah.

Anyway Old Donald emailed a tortuous six-page letter to Congressional Majority Leader Nancy Pelosi accusing the opposition party of of declaring “open war on American democracy.”

Old Chicken Neck Mitch McConnell joined Trump in attacking the Democrats by stating, "From everything we can tell, House Democrats’ slapdash impeachment inquiry has failed to come anywhere near – anywhere near – the bar for impeaching a duly elected president, let alone removing him for the first time in American history."

Trump's fiercely loyal backers are ready for civil war.

That rebellion to support slavery and racism really went well last time, but while I ask myself how did an illiterate man write a six-page letter, I do have a good response.

It is really short too.

Three words.

GO FUCK YOURSELF.