Wow, it’s been pretty much forever since I last blogged. I better not make a habit out of this. So ya, anyways… Where to start.

I may as well say it now, I’ve completed only one thing on my list. LAME! I played DDR with my friend after we went to watch 2012 (And totally owned at it 8D) I even had the opportunity to hit someone with a rubber chicken (#60)! Hmm. Well, I’ve got someone’s address to write to them AND I’ve got the opportunity to buy a bobblehead for someone for Xmas. And I might even learn a little guitar…

Bah, 2012 wasn’t as good as people made out it was. Some parts were wayyyyy too Hollywood. What I mean by this is that some bits were a little frickin’ predictable. I mean seriously, what are the odds that driving away from an erupting.. Well.. Ground, that the flying pieces of lava and rock and allsorts don’t hit you? I mean COME ON. For an action-filled disaster movie, I guess it was okay. For the movie of the century, chyeah I doubt it.

Hmm… Social life! I have one now New-ish friend inviting me to play pool every Tuesday (Call him D).. Isn’t that awesome? Uh, no. I suck at pool. Learnt that out the hard way last Tuesday and there’s noooo way I’m going to get better. But, being the gentleman he is, he’s offered that next Tuesday I could have a separate table with him so he can ’show me the ropes’… Suspicious <_< He apparently talks about me every now and then when he’s around his friend’s (We’ll call him T) and T appears to really want me and D together. I met that very friend at pool, he’s nothing like I thought he’d be. Though, he did drop a hint as we were leaving the pool place that went like this:
T : So am I dropping you off at yours, Vix?
Me : Um yah, in *insert my town name here*, is that okay?
T : Yah I guess, I just thought you’d be over D’s house for the night *sly grin*
Silly T. But yah, he’s awesome. Even bought me a drink n_n   Also, in other news, the guy from the Skindred gig (mentionned in post um.. 2) is a little pushy. The age difference is like 4 years so yah.. I don’t know. He keeps wanting me to go over and he likes seeing me in cosplay which is a little weird but I don’t know.. These new friends are real awesome though :3

Universityyyyyy! AGH! My teacher has only JUST finished my damn reference for my UCAS application! Sucks. Suckssuckssucks. I’m not going to get ANY offers from Universities, am I? I mean, my personal statement is pretty much finished and the person in charge of sending them off says it’s good but damn my teacher.

Still need a dangly phone charm. I’m bored of Bidoof now and the Pokémon sticker from it came off. Now I get people asking me why the hell I’ve got a beaver in a neckerchief attatched to my phone. It makes no sense. I think I’ma buy a Hello Kitty charm from the mall next time I’m out.

AAAAAAAHHH! LADY GAGA! She’s so awesome, ne? I watched her video for Bad Romance the day it aired which was rad. I heard her video for VideoPhone got leaked onto the internet for like a half hour or something? Eh, I wish I’d seen it. I totally have tickets to go see her in Nottingham in March. How awesome is that? VERY. Final Fantasy XIII is out in March too, isn’t it? Wow, March will be a good month ^_^

Speaking of games.. My dad just got me Fallout 3 Game of the Year Edition,  Grand Theft Auto VI, Prototype and Assassin’s Creed 2. And d’you know what sucks the most…? I never have any damn time to play on my Xbox! D’: Maybe during the holidays… I’m still trying to complete RockBand and GuitarHero too though so.. Meh.

I’ve decided to end these from now on with a DTWLED thing. Me and my friends text this to each other when we’re bored to get a conversation started. Each letter stands for: Doing, Thinking, Wearing, Listening, Eating, Drinking. So um.. Yah.

Doing : Attempting my Psychology assignment and Biology reading task. Waiting for my driving instructor to arrive in a half hour.
Thinking : Oh gosh, it’s freakin’ cold… My fingers are freezing while typing this.
Wearing : Light blue jeans, a Powerpuff Girl Bubbles necklace, a white jacket and a random white tee with orange, purple and green clouds and stars and rainbows and castles and puzzle pieces and lightning bolts… I’m pretty sure this is what the inside of my head is like ^w^
Listening : Mindless Self Indulgence – Due
Eating : Smoked salmon and pepper sushi
Drinking : Coffee, of course :3

Until next time… See ya!

Criminal justice sytem

From my book CHILDHOOD MEMOIRS

 The words crime, punishment, criminal etc. were coined in the feudal era. At the time of the the capitalist revolution in France ( 177 5 ), when wooly-eyed writers and intellectuals took it as the true revolution ,words like liberty, fraternity and equality came into vogue. Victor Hugo’s Le Mirable  for the first time, made us aware of the fact that  a thief is also a human being. Alas! We have forgotten Hugo. Is  his name mentioned in any text book?

No wonder. It is highly inconvenient to mention his name, now that money is the supreme deity (in Malayalam the word for a billionaire is KODEESWARAN !). How else can we explain public linching of a poor harijan boy in front of TV cameras? If we claim to be humanists, we should have intervened to save the poor boy. Let us re-read Hugo. The word criminal must be deleted from dictionary.

We are all fallible. I used to travel in DTC bus, paying the minimum fare, until I was caught. Did I earn money this way? It is just human tendency to enjoy any gain, howsoever pitifully trivial it may be! Yet I am not a miser. We have to continuously improve our own thinking, attitude, outlook and behaviour. (To thine own conscience, be true). The system should help us to become a true gentleman, in every sense of the term! Wash away the criminal in me. Lockup, police brutality and the jail will only make me a hardened criminal. Parents and teachers have empowered themselves to beat a child whose sole parent is God. Will He be happy with our conduct?

A pick pocket or smuggler is let away with light punishment. Their patrons are in the good books of the police. Does the system have any way of reforming a criminal? The latter is just a tool .There is no law for punishing the real villain who works behind the scene. This aspect has to be taken care of.

In the proposed set up, a team of dedicated people will conduct a thorough probe into all aspects of even a petty crime and recommend measures to eradicate it forever. If only an individual is concerned, he can be given work of cleaning the gutter, removing garbage or some such useful work. Jails can be converted into schools. Hardened criminals  can be chained like slaves and made to work hard.

The investigating team should be headed by a judge (A retired one may be preferred).

The members of the team must be well trained, thoroughly honest and dedicated. The whole department could be under the control of the Chief Justice of India and function independently, without interference from any quarter. All proceedings must be video recorded, but the proceedings must be  in camera, lest others involved may know what is happening and arm themselves accordingly. The culprit shall remain in humane custody. No bail, even if the crime is trivial. The whole lot of lawyers should be asked to go home and tend cattle!

At present they work only to distort or delay the investigation and save the culprit for the sake of money. How do we tolerate this brazen miscarriage of justice?

APPOINTMENTMENT OF JUDGES

Like the election commission, there shall be a permanent judicial commission. Appointment of judges will follow the same pattern as that of MPs (see Democratic Disfunction).T he judges too should work hard from 8 am to 6 pm every day, with weekly holiday by rotation; but they will get suitable salary because they are not elected by the people.

Even a shadow of suspicion shall debar him .Once appointed, he should work for life time, without any age limit, so long as he is healthy and willing to work .Transfer and promotion etc. must also be decided by the commission.

They may be removed any moment, if proved to be incompetent or unhealthy or on grounds for suspicion; otherwise they can serve indefinitely as in the US.(Their system is better in all respects. If their system is a motor car, ours is a bullock cart, with one wheel broken and the animal unable to pull !)

Any person, not necessarily an aggrieved one, on the basis of news ,a first information report may be lodged even by e:mail  The concerned judge shall immediately start investigation ,assisted by CIDs, police etc., but in strict secrecy .Any person may be arrested, including witnesses who shall remain in custody till investigation is over.The people detained must not be allowed to meet each other. All questioning shall be video recorded in the presence of the judge. Refusal to answer a question will be treated as confession .

The judgement shall be given then and there .

The whole system must function independently, without  interference from any quarter. Nobody will even come to know ; how can they meddle ?

The policemen must be like elder brothers to the citizens, in the model of the English police.

The Soul Train Awards are back!!!

While many are still talking about how much better the American Music Awards were, I was checking out footage from the Soul Train Awards…
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The following are the nominees and BOLD are the winners I think will get it.

BEST NEW ARTIST

• DRAKE (I think he’ll get it)
• Jazmine Sullivan
• Keri Hilson
• Ryan Leslie (I’d like to see him get it)
• Solange

BEST R&B/SOUL ARTIST FEMALE

• BEYONCE (As usual, they’ll give it to her)
• Chrisette Michelle (I think she deserves it)
• Jennifer Hudson
• Ledisi
• Whitney Houston

BEST MALE R&B/SOUL MALE

• Charlie Wilson
• MAXWELL (I think he’ll get it AND deserves it!!!)
• Musiq Soulchild
• Raphael Saadiq
• Robin Thicke

SONG OF THE YEAR

• “God in Me” – MARY MARY (It was big and a close second!)
• “Pretty Wings” – Maxwell (I’d like to see this late entry win)
• “Single Ladies (Put a ring on it)” – BEYONCE (She’ll win but not by much!)
• “Spotlight” – Jennifer Hudson
• “Turnin Me On” – Keri Hilson/ ft Lil Wayne

ALBUM OF THE YEAR

• Beyonce – I am… Sasha Fierce (Platinum) Sony Music
• Jamie Foxx – Intuition (Platinum) J Records
• Kanye West – 808s & Heartbreak (Platinum) Roc-A-Fella/Def Jam
• MAXWELL – Blacksummer’s Night (Gold) Sony Music
(My choice to win although Kanye’s album minus his personal drama was superb if you are just talking about music!)
• Ne-Yo – Year of the Gentleman

RECORD OF THE YEAR (SONGWRITER AWARD)

• Beyonce – “Single Ladies (Put a ring on it)”
• Drake – “Best I ever had”
• Jamie Foxx Ft/T-Pain – “Blame it”
• Keri Hilson – “Knock You Down”
• MAXWELL – “Pretty Wings” (Hands DOWN if you are talking about the QUALITY of writing)

BEST REGGAE ARTIST AWARD
• Movado (He had a fairly good year but may not stand out compared to Sean)
• SEAN PAUL (because the people who choose them always go to the guy most popular they’ll probably choose him)
• Serani
• Taurus Riley
• Ziggy Marley

CENTRIC AWARD – SOUL APPROVED/UNDERGROUND

• Corneille
• Eric Roberson
• LAURA IZABOR (I think she’ll win as the most visible, held up and I have not stopped playing this album. Great work musically though I wouldn’t say “underground.” Atlantic just didn’t promoter her)
• Maysa
• The Knux

BEST GOSPEL PERFORMANCE MALE, FEMALE OR GROUP

• BeBe and CeCe Winans – “Close To You”
• Fred Hammond f/John P Kee – “They That Wait”
• Marvin Sapp – “Praise Him in Advance”
• MARY MARY – “God In Me” (As the biggest crossover they’ll win hands down…and I happen to think it’s a great song anyway with a greater message)
• Smokie Norful – “Justified”

BEST COLLABORATION

• Keri Hilson featuring Kanye West & Ne-Yo – “Knock you Down”
• Keyshia Cole featuring Monica – “Trust”
• MARIO featuring Gucci Mane and Sean Garrett – “Break up” (I choose this song although it may be too street for some tastes…but the combination of flows made for an engaging journey into downtempo Rhythm & Beats aka R&B)
• Mary Mary featuring Kierra (KiKi) Sheard – “God In Me”
• Trey Songz featuring Drake – “Successful” (People like this dude Drake right now and Trey finally got some hits out this year beyond New York and ATL…This was a good second place mention)

ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR

• Michael Jackson

Since there weren’t any choices, it goes to Michael. It goes to him not because he was the best this year but because he died this year, let’s keep it real. This music industry is so politically inclined they couldn’t just say we are giving MJ the accolades we haven’t given out of guilt…maybe if more of us were supportive and loving toward one of the greatest to ever do it then maybe the people closer to him would have done more to protect and take care of him.

Looking forward to seeing who actually wins! Maybe the industry can take notes from the AMAs by giving awards based on sales and not politics since sales mean PEOPLE chose the winners! *Pardon me Grammys* but the voters are not necessarily in tune with the music…I’ll get on their case in another blog coming soon!

*Freedom*
www.socialtravelers.net
www.facebook.com/freedom.us
djfreedomjustice@gmail.com

‘You mustn’t. You simply must not.  You will not harass that lovely young man.  He was a gentleman who made his intentions clear.  He had no intentions.  This you will respect.’

She writes this to remember to fight the urge to call him. To talk to him. To burden him with the sound of her voice. She writes these words to fight the sadness in her eyes when she sees him.  And she sees him all the time.  At events where although she has no confirmation of his presence, she attends because somewhere deep down inside she knows he’ll be there. Although it hurts to see him, it hurts more to not.  It wasn’t even a relationship – hardly just the beginnings of a friendship- for crying out loud it was merely three dinners; but he managed to touch her and inspire hope in a heart that has long felt nothing at all.  But – she did not inspire him.  Although the mere sight of him makes her forget what she is saying mid-sentence, she mustn’t. She simply must not.  She will not harass that lovely young man.  Only delight in his charms from afar.

Truth be told, what would she have to offer him?  In the midst of a sea that feels like a tempest swelling and easing and swaying and then breaking, nothing in her world feels solid; even more reason why his affect on her heart is so remarkable to her mind.  For several fleeting moments, she feels altogether when he approaches her.  He has such a lovely manner about him, charming and disarmingly so. Tall, broad, lean, yet not a classically handsome man, he is something much more interesting and worthwhile than that.  With every encounter, no matter how fleeting, she feels the rest of the world fall away when speaking with him. Work is the topic major as it’s the one thing he spends his time doing. She wouldn’t have minded him always being at work – this she could have lived with; as long as he took time for himself and once in a while remembered to make time for her. But yesterday – the last time she saw him yet the first time in over a month- there was another girl; possibly just an acquaintance or friend of a friend, possibly something or someone more.  He’s warm and soft around the other girls; he’s rigid and stiff around her. She does not instill comfort in him.  She doesn’t understand why, but understands enough to respect his decision – this was solely his decision.  That’s why she mustn’t. She simply must not.  She will not harass that lovely young man.  There are other fish in the sea, there always are; she has resigned to delight in his charms only from afar.

Bond knows it.  The Most Interesting Man In The World knows it.  Your father knows it.  You should too.  Every gentleman should know their drink.

Think of your drink as your alcoholic stamp, your booze flag.  A drink says a lot about a man. What you order should be what you are comfortable representing, and most importantly, what tastes good.  If you like the Crantini, by all means, go for the Crantini.  Chances are you’ll be called out by the guy drinking the Coors Light.

Sadly, A beer, no matter how imported, is not a drink.

Go confidently to your local drinking establishment, order up a ___________, sit back, and enjoy, knowing that you are drinking your drink, the way your father did, the way his father did, the way his father did…

Dude and I are back from an early dinner with a few of my girlfriends. Had to brief him on the two to lessen whatever anxiety he might be feeling (and mine). Jo and Marie were both romantics, and would definitely put him on the spot since I’ve been a little secretive about Dude and I. Logical Jo, I warned him, had ears tuned to slip-ups, from grammar to Freudian. Marie was more laid-back but she would definitely be asking things about “weeksaries,” “monthsaries” and “pet names.”

Dinner was at this kebob place, a recent addition to home-cooked and ethnic cuisine places  (and the usual pizza joints) popping up in the community, where I used to live. Jo and I had dinner there before. Since students were the place’s main customers, you get so much food for only a reasonable price. And it was to die-for, better than those uppity kebob spots I’ve been to that charged you your soul for crap.

I thought Dude was all right until he took my hand as we entered the restaurant. Jesus, his hand was ice. “You jump,I jump,” he said, quoting from what apparently was one of his favorite movies of all time (it must be love because I’m not gagging that he saw Titanic seven times during its theater run). “Who goes first?” I asked, squeezing his hand and he replied, with a straight face, “You.” He jumped away when I gave him a hard pinch on the side.

Oh and he was sooo great. And patient with all of Jo and Marie’s endless questions. We held hands under the table the entire time, and though it’s useless to hide it because it was pretty obvious, it was still majorly thrilling. But you know what the highlight for me was? When he took all our orders and then spoke to the waiter before adding his. A gentleman always knows how to take charge. When the waiter said that one of the dishes had the potential to burn your tongue, Dude turned to Marie and asked if she would still like it.

Oh, Dude! I wanted to clap. He not only took our orders but remembered who liked what. When the food arrived, Marie looked at us as if she expected Dude to start spoon-feeding me. I had to kick her under the table and she glared at me.

When Dude left to do his man-business, we three girls had our huddle and my man got stellar reviews. Jo was impressed, and egged me to go and ask him to be my date to her wedding next month. Marie thought he was cool, simply cool.

“So, how’d I do?” Dude asked me as we drove home later. “Your friends think I’m a loser?”

I shook my head. “Dude.”

“Well? Stop torturing me.”

Could this cool and collected guy, who was pretty laid-back about a lot of things be really worried whether he made a good impression or not? How could he?

I betrayed the sisterhood and told Dude exactly what Jo and Marie thought.

Pas grand monde à l’aéroport. Elle a du temps.
Et peu de bagage. Elle ne part pas longtemps.
Au bord de la mer bleue l’attend son amoureux.
Elle achète un livre, une revue ou deux,
Un paquet de biscuits pour sa petite faim.
Au salon d’attente, elle se rend enfin.
Sur le siège resté libre entre elle et son voisin
Elle pose son sac, ses achats du matin.

Heute um kurz nach 2 Uhr mittags war es soweit. Ich hab mich endlich getraut. Und das voellig spontan. Wollte ja eigentlich nur in den siebten Stock, laufen, etwas Krafttraining, anschliessend Whirlpoolen. Doch als ich die vier aneinander gereihten Muenztelefone rechts abseits des Hotelfoyers sah, konnte ich nicht mehr anders. Muss die betoerende Hitze gewesen sein, die mir die allerletzte Hemmung nahm. Vielleicht waren es aber auch die weiten Taschen meiner Hose, die mich Schritt fuer Schritt daran erinnerten, dass ich heute die noetigen Muenzen dabei hatte. Kling, klang, kling, haelt ja kein Mensch aus. Schuld war uebrigens die Dame vom Geldwechsel-Schalter an der Skytrain. Die gab mir naemlich fuer meinen 100-Baht-Schein gleich zehn Muenzen, nicht, wie darum gebeten, nur vier und den Rest Scheine. Da hinter mir einige Andere warteten und ein paar von denen so duester drein blickten, als haetten sie schon seit einer Woche keinen Stuhlgang mehr gehabt, hab ich’s sein lassen, die Angestellte darauf aufmerksam zu machen. Muss ich halt das naechste Mal nichts mehr wechseln, dachte ich mir. Haette ich da aber gewusst, welch Unbehagen mich durch ihr Unvermoegen spaeter erwarten wuerde, haette ich freilich nicht so freundlich gelaechelt und mich bedankt. Scheisse.

Die letzten 13 Tage hatte ich bei Betreten des Hotels ja oft ueberlegt. Jeden Tag aufs Neue. Hab ich genug Kleingeld dabei? Kann der Typ ueberhaupt deutsch? Wenn nicht, kann der dann wenigstens englisch? Aber die Werbeanzeige war ja auf deutsch. Hmm. Hab ich wirklich die richtige Nummer? Hat der Typ eine Stimme, die zu seinem Gesicht passt? Soll ich nich doch besser auf eine Antwortmail von Marco Nickol warten? Das ging beinahe endlos so weiter, bis, ja bis heute:

“Hallo?”

“Ja…aeh, hallo, Sie sprechen deutsch?”

“Ja.”

“Aha.”

(Schweigen)

“Aehm, ich wuerde gerne wissen, was fuer einen Service Sie eigentlich genau anbieten.”

“Sind Sie denn interesse [sic!]?”

“Ja an was denn?”

“Dass er Sie und ihr [sic!] Frau begleitet.”

“Nein, ich wollte eigentlich…”

(Beep, beep, beep…)

Jetzt war ich erst einmal baff. Nicht nur, dass mein Gespraechspartner einfach mal so auflegte, nein, die Stimme gehoerte gar keinem Mann, sondern einer Frau, geschaetzt mittleren Alters, Akzent stark thailaendisch. Fuer mich konnte das nur zwei Sachen bedeuten: Entweder war das wirklich eine Frau, moeglicherweise seine Agentin oder aber der Kerl ist, Gott bewahre, ein Wesen mit Terminator IIs T-1000 bestueckten Faehigkeiten, die Stimme und das Auftreten des von ihm vorher ermordeten Menschens annehmen zu koennen. Schauderhaft.

Aber der Reihe nach: Dank meines Vaters, der mir von seinem Arbeitsplatz beim Auswaertigen Amt Bangkok unregelmaessig deutschsprachige Magazine kostenfrei mitnimmt, bin ich vor einiger Zeit auf ein neues Medium gestossen: Guten Tag Thailand

Mal abgesehen davon, dass das etwa 50-seitige Magazin pro Ausgabe mindestens zwei Seiten fuer den Marco Polo der Neuzeit, Tristan, fuer die meisterlichen Detailbeschreibungen seiner taeglichen Ausfluege samt deren aussergewoehnlicher Vorkommnisse ( “Nach 5 langen Minuten und mehrfachen [sic!] nerven [sic!] der Polizisten kam der Junge wieder mit meinen [sic!] Reisepass zurück. Boah, Schwein gehabt. Der Junge namens Sina brachte mich nun zur Immigration Police [sic!]. Das sah schon eher nach einer Grenzstation aus. Erstaunlich [sic!] keine Schlange. Ich erfuhr das [sic!] mein Visum schon seit 2 Tagen abgelaufen war und ich zusätzlich nochmal 1000 Baht zahlen müsse, für jeden Tag über Visa 500 Baht. Aber dieser verflixte stempel [sic!]. Man konnte echt nicht erkennen ob es eine acht oder eine sechs war. naja [sic!].” ) aufopfert (vollstaendiger Artikel hier), abgesehen davon, dass Bodo Cieslar monatlich mit seiner ungewollt selbstironischen Kolumne den thailaendischen Fussball durchleuchtet und mit kuenstlerisch gestalteten Interviews ( “Sasa, ist die thailaendische Premier League vom Niveau her mit der deutschen Oberliga vergleichbar”, fragte Bodo. “Man kann es schlecht vergleichen,” klaerte uns Sasa auf. (…) “Im Internet wurde geschrieben, dass der Trainer keine Farangs [Bezeichnung fuer Kaukasier, Anmerkung von mir!] mag”, fragte Bodo. “Da ist was dran”, war Sasa’s [sic!] knappe Antwort.) aufwartet, abgesehen davon, dass Euer Erich mit seiner stets durchdachten Analyse aka Kolumne, die wahlweise mal die thailaendische, mal die deutsche Gesellschaft an den Erichschen Pranger stellt und jeder, wirklich jeder (unter anderem auch “unseren Wiedekind [sic]“) sein Fett dabei weg bekommt, und abgesehen davon, dass dpa- und sid-Artikel quellenangabenlos im Heft herumgeistern, ja, abgesehen von all dem, ist das Magazin eigentlich immer noch ein einziges Disaster. Aber dazu an anderer Stelle mehr.

Viel unfassbarer war aber der kleine Werbekasten rechts unten auf Seite 24 der Ausgabe 08. Da grinst auf der linken Haelfte des Balkens ein gepflegt aussehender, mittelalter Mann mit einem Sex-Appeal, den selbst Enrique Iglesias nicht besser haette erfinden koennen und daneben folgendes:

Fantasievoller und charmanter Gentleman begleitet Damen und Paare zum gemeinsamen Dinner und anderen Aktivitaeten

08424xxxx [Telefonnummer von mir gekuerzt!]

Na das nenn ich mal eine Werbeanzeige. Die Message, die einem dieser knackige Slogan suggeriert, ist nichts anderes als ”Ich mach’s fuer Geld.” Die Krux an der ganzen Sache ist ja, dass die Betreiber der Webpraesenz von Guten Tag Thailand die Chuzpe besitzen, das Magazin so zu beschreiben:

Unser Angebot richtet sich sowohl an Expats,als auch an Touristen, die etwas genauer hinter die Kulissen schauen wollen und sich nicht mit den ausgetretenen Pfaden des Pauschaltourismus zufrieden geben wollen.

Aha, das muss man sich nochmals auf der Zunge zergehen lassen: Das Medium soll also die jenigen ansprechen, die nichts mit Pauschaltourismus am Hut haben wollen. Die Sache hat nur einen Haken: Wir sind hier in Thailand. Ersetze den Begriff Pauschaltourismus mit Sextourismus, und keinen stoert’s, jeder weiss es.

Da ich ja nun ein ein Expat bin, der etwas genauer hinter die Kulissen schauen will, hab’ ich beschlossen, deren Angebot anzunehmen und dem Director/”Chefredakteur” des Magazins, Marco Nickol (gleichzeitig Herausgeber; Firma Golden Age International Co., Ltd.), eine Mail zu schreiben, um ihn zu fragen, wie die Anzeige trotz des Selbstbeschreibungstextes auf der Website ins Heft geraten konnte und was genau der fantasievolle und charmante Gentleman da eigentlich anbietet. Kann ja sein, dass er wirklich *nur* einen Escort Begleitservice anbietet. Yeah, right…

Leider hatte Herr Nickol keine Zeit/Lust/Eier, mir darauf zu antworten, sodass in mir irgendwann der Super-Plan reifte, den Gentleman doch einfach selbst mal zu fragen. Lustigerweise hab’ ich jetzt nach dem Anruf noch viel mehr Fragen als vorher. Jetzt bleibt mir nichts anderes uebrig, als es naechste Woche nochmal zu probieren. Dazu ueberlege ich gerade, einen Artikel fuer Siam Heute zu schreiben, welcher den mittlerweile unuebersichtlichen Fundus an deutschsprachigen Magazinen in Thailand analysiert und dazu aufdeckt, was genau die Motivation derer Herausgeber ist (Hallo, Herr Nickol). Vielleicht lass ich’s aber auch bleiben, wenn ich wider Erwarten doch noch Antworten auf meine simplen Fragen erhalte.

Michael Hube

“The Meeting”

I loved this gentleman’s glasses right from the start – that is after I noticed him come in and sit down alone.

After a few moments a younger man in a trench coat with a brief case came to join him. What a great premise for the beginning of a story!

Is the old man the “Godfather” – is this a mafia meeting? (I know – its a coffee shop, but its possible isn’t it?)

The reunion of professor and student? Father and son?

When men get together at coffee shops there are so many other possible stories as opposed to a man and a woman.

Naturally, I couldn’t resist.

“The delightful Mr.Moustache pillow comes with four interchangeable velcro moustaches (Fu Manchu,trucker,gentleman,& salt ‘n’pepper!) and a clear plastic storage pocket on the back!”

Get It Here

The Red Suitcase (Going back to K.C.)
It did not take long for the excitement to start. I had barely gotten settled when I heard a commotion. I looked up and noticed two people, a man and a woman, arguing and their voices were getting louder and louder. I tried not to listen but they were heading in my direction. Neither person seemed to be concerned that they were the center of attention.
“I’m going to get in his face and tell him to stay away from you or else I’ll kick his butt! He should not have been at the dance trying to cut in on me. You invited me to the dance. I thought it was supposed to be a romantic evening. I thought we were trying to work on our marriage!”
“I invited him,” she said agitatedly. “I thought both of you could take turns dancing with me and act like gentlemen.”
“I don’t want him around anymore if we’re going to be together,” the husband said determinedly. “I can tell that he is interested in more than friendship. He can’t be your friend.”
“You can’t pick my friends,” she said angrily. “You’ve been keeping me from enjoying life. I want to have fun again.”
“You’re nothing but a hussy,” he said quietly.
She had been carrying a large cup of iced tea. With a quick flick of her wrist the tea splattered on his shirt and his face. His eyes flashed but his temper remained in check. He stared at her in disbelief and disgust but did not move. I was watching the couple but also watching the reactions of those caught up in the unfolding drama. Some passengers were watching with interest while others were upset by the disturbance. No one had interfered however, as the events progressed.
On cue the conductor appeared. “You two have to knock this off. Otherwise we’ll have to throw you off this train.”
The couple, now no longer a couple, went in opposite directions. There was no more contact between the two. Each of them sat brooding for awhile, the husband in the lounge, the wife in the observation car. The husband got off at the next stop while the wife stayed on the train, talking about her husband to anyone who would listen or sympathize. I vowed not to listen to any of her ranting or raving. I did not want to be trapped in any location without an easy exit. I had my own problems to work out.
Where is the love I once earned?
What will await me when I return?
Her voice is silent but the message strong,
She thinks she’s right and I am wrong,
We stressed love in our wedding vow,
But that was then and this is now,
Will I unearth the truth that I learned,
And find an empty house when I return?

To break the vacuum created by the fighting couple, my seatmate, Sean, began telling me why he was traveling. “My grandmother died in California. We wanted to have the funeral right away. My uncle, who lives in Wyoming, said hold off the preparations for a week while he put his pickup back together.”
“No way!” we told him. “We know you. You’ll take a month. We can’t take that long.”
Sean continued. “My uncle argued with us but we went ahead and held grandmother’s funeral. My uncle got mad and hasn’t talked to anyone in the family for two years now. I’m going to Wyoming to see if he’s all right.”
Sean was lean and wiry and could not stay in his seat for long. He went to the observation car, the dining car, and took smoke breaks outside whenever the train stopped. He would occasionally return to his seat, talk for a few minutes, and fall sound asleep. Other times while he was awake, he was a whirlwind of activity, bouncing out of his seat to take pictures, talk to girls in the general vicinity, or tell us about all the fights he had gotten into. “My dad was always in fights and my uncles were arrested several times for fighting. That’s my heritage. I was born to fight and get into trouble. I’m not afraid of anyone. “
Once while he was sleeping, a man came down the aisle and accidently bumped Sean’s head. He awoke immediately and said, “If you touch me again, I’ll break your f—ing arm.” Although the man looked as if he could hold his own, he backed off and we never saw him again. Sean talked as if he knew everything but he listened when I talked to people and he treated me with respect. When someone asked him a question he would tell that person to ask me, the professor. I took that as a compliment, especially since Sean asked me numerous questions and seemed impressed that I always had an answer. He checked on my answers sometimes but never found me wrong. Because of that he did not threaten me or challenge my authority while we traveled.
Across the aisle from me there was an interesting woman. Her waist length black and gray hair framed her thin face. Her dress was neat and clean. Although she appeared to be a normal traveler, she had several odd quirks. Her belongings stretched across two seats. The trays on the backs of the seats in front of her were always down, each stacked with rows of health foods. I talked to her for a few minutes and found out her name was Rhonda. Whenever I could, I listened to her tell about her life. Rhonda complained constantly that life wasn’t fair and she had more than her share of troubles. According to her, she suffered from depression that kept her from being functional. She insisted that depression and insanity showed up frequently in her family tree and she was doomed to have migraines and depression. She had gone through depression after depression and doctors could do nothing for her. Therefore life had always been difficult. Homeless for four years, Rhonda had wandered about Boston in the summer and stayed in shelters during the winter. She had been the victim of many attacks on her person which she declared were inevitable because people with mental disease were frequent targets.
I observed her from my vantage point. Rhonda constantly ate health foods, stacked cans and water bottles in neat little rows, and cleaned zealously. At night she wrapped up in a plaid blanket and stretched across two seats. Her suitcase and backpack were strategically placed to protect her from intruders and to keep her privacy. I was sure she took up all available space so no one could sit next to her. I conversed with her several times and I was amazed at her knowledge of world events and discovered she was educated and eloquent while appearing to be nervous and hesitant. She finally grew tired of talking and pulled out a book and became immersed in the story. She seemed lost in another world and I became forgotten. She never talked to me again.
In the meantime I decided to look for my red suitcase. I had my duffle bag and it had enough of my supplies that I could cope with each day, but I wanted to wash up and change clothes a little more often. I became a little self-conscious when a woman sat next to me in the observation car, sniffed once or twice, looked at me in disgust, and left. I needed my suitcase soon or I might become a pariah.
A woman sitting two rows back from me got up, approached, and sat down in the seat Sean had vacated during his meanderings. “Would you mind if I sat here?” she asked. “I want to ask you a few questions and find out why everybody seems to tell you everything.” She looked at me intensely. “I also heard you were looking for a red suitcase.”
“Have you seen one recently?” I asked anxiously. I was sure she was referring to a suitcase owned by someone else.
“I was talking to an old gentleman and he told me about his wife, Martha, and how she played pranks on people. He said she would return your suitcase at the next town. You didn’t react as she expected. You just weren’t as fun as other people.”
“Martha isn’t real,” I said. “She’s just part of someone’s imagination.”
“The gentleman said Martha gave it to someone to watch over it. Nothing’s been harmed.” She introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Joyce. What’s your name?” She plied question after question. “What have you written? What’s your occupation? Where do you live? Where did you go and why? And finally, are you single or married?”
I answered each question honestly although I was hesitant to answer the last question. “Legally, I’m single, although I might be married but separated.”
She looked at me and asked, “What do you mean?”
“A marriage ceremony was performed but it was never legalized. I’ve been living with the same woman for six years but I think when I get back she will be gone. We haven’t spoken to each other for months.”
I was lonely and Joyce was easy to talk to. We talked about everything we had in common and things we differed on. Time passed quickly and at ten p.m. an attendant came by and insisted that all lap tops, cd players, cell phones, and portable t.v.s had to be turned off so others could sleep. Sean came by several times but since Joyce was in his seat he did not stay. He would take things from his small suitcase and leave. When the lights were dimmed Joyce did not leave. She curled up next to me and went to sleep.
“This is strange,” I thought. But I did not tell her to leave. This whole trip had been weird from the start. What could I expect now?

Benvolguts amics,

Després d’una setmana ja tornem a tenir aquí una nova edició de La Pedalera carregada altre cop de bona música. Els continguts per el programa d’avui son els següents:

- Entrevista: aquesta nit ens acompanyen els Miyagui, una de les formacions que més han sonat i que més sonen a la comarca d’Osona i que mica en mica es van fent un lloc a l’actual panorama musical català. Parlarem, entre d’altres, del seu primer treball discogràfic titulat 980/1030.

- Do it yourself: la secció d’avui de l’Iris Palou ve carregada de riffs durs i contundents ja que ens parlarà dels grups Barricada i Boikot.

- Més enllà del so: el nou disc de Quique González, Daiquiri Blues, copsarà tota l’atenció de la secció d’en Mike.

- Remember: amb l’Ester Ferre ens pujarem al seu particular tren del passat que avui té destí en un dels estils més influents de tots els temps: el Blues.

- A banda: la secció d’avui d’en Jow ve protagonitzada per el rock d’Extrechinato y tú y el reggae de Gentleman.

- Agenda: amb l’espai d’en Jordi Gonzàlez podrem estar al dia dels pròxims esdeveniments musicals.

- Top 5: un rànquing format per les maquetes d’artistes i bandes que mica en mica anem rebent a La Pedalera.

Això és el que podreu escoltar si aquesta nit sintonitzeu amb nosaltres de 10 a 12 de la nit a Ràdio Vic (90.3 FM). Us hi esperem! També podeu escoltar-nos on line per mitjà d’aquest enllaç.

http://kara.fast-serv.com:8700/listen.pls

La Pedalera
Miquel Cornellà

“Nice hat, asshole!”  is what I remember shouting out the passenger side of my best friends ride last july. 

It was 95 degrees and I saw an indie-rock pal on hawthorne wearing a stocking cap and beard when he should have been dressed more tropical/practical.

Man, he looked stunning… but I can assure you  he was not ‘making the summer fresh’.

what’s with this reverse papa smurf look?

"my favorite bands are 'Smurfs of Leon' and 'The Red Hot Chili Smurfs'"

You see guys,  sometimes life is all about timing and placement. His hat was in the wrong place (his head) at the wrong time (the peak of summer). So the answer is clear…. we gotta time machine his look to the present day.

So last weekend we turned back the clocks and  gained an extra magic hour. Somehow that extra hour gave my facial hair growth a jumpstart. I shaved on Halloween and now somehow I have a pretty amazing beard in just 9 days! Now I’m  turning heads and creating a buzz in the community wherever I go with this new ‘kenny loggins’ (short beard).

So I’m gonna keep this sweet lil ‘Kenny Rogers’ (neat beard) for a while and I’ll tell why….

1) MY FACE WILL KEEP WARM

2) I WILL SAVE ON SCHICK CINCO RAZOR $22 RIPOFFS. THIS WILL GIVE ME COOL HAT MONEY.

3) 60% OF ALL INDIE ROCK  SWEETHEARTS LIKE BEARDS AND I’M WILLING TO ROLL THOSE DICE.

So before I reveal  the secrets to achieving the ultimate winter hat/beard combo we’re gonna have to set a few things straight… Beards are not for everybody. Hats are not for everybody. This is case-by-case  kind of shit.

You gotta have beard confidence and a good posture to pull off this look correctly. You see, most bros look like idiots with little hats hanging off the back of their heads.  Am I right?

Anyways guys, all I’m saying get a cool hat and don’t be afraid to go outside. If you’re a guy, tryout a beard… if you’re a girl you can just admire mine.

Here’s my real predictions for winter 2009/10

COONSKIN HATS WILL MILDLY SWEEP THE NATION. here’s a link for some decent ones http://crockettcoonskincaps.tripod.com/

ELMER FUDD STYLE.  

I want to blog all the romantic moments I see in the world.
There’s too much beauty in the world for me to give up on love.

I was at SportsChek with my mom when we saw this big burly buffed guy and his skinny red head girlfriend.
He was the type of guy you would stereotype as the manly type, the one who wore the pants in the family.
Quite contrary he treated his girlfriend really well.
He picked out a few dozen shoes for her to try on. Treating her like his child, he put each of them on her. Untying the shoelaces, making sure they fit.
He spent hours with her doing this.
He even brought her socks after.
He paid for three pairs of shoes.
Left carrying them and holding her hand.
What a man!
Not your average shy, whipped man.
A big masculine man, not afraid to be the sweet, generous gentleman I dream of!

La nuit était belle et étoilée, je me promenais tranquillement sur la reconstitution du pont de Brooklyn sur la sim Acropolis, quand soudain, venus de nulle part, trois quatre paparazzis m’ont coupé le chemin. Je n’ai pas eu le temps de voir mes agresseurs de lumières, que des centaines d’étoiles crépitaient déjà autour de moi.

Protégée par ma longue frange Buried, j’ai tenté en vain de m’échapper, de me sauver. Des étoiles tombaient dans ma bague Sad’s jewells, se fofilaient dans mon manteau Muism, glissaient sur mon pantalon de cuir Coco, et pleuvaient sur Brooklyn.

Location : Old New York
My Inspiration : Little Star

*Les photos ont été réalisées avec le viewer Emerald, sinon il est impossible de porter autant d’objets avec le viewer officiel.*

Hair : Buried – Ryan - 250L$
Mouth : Gentleman – Cigarette Lady Black – 299L$

Jacket : Muism – The chic coat – Houndstooth – 350L$
Shirt : Schadenfreude – White Oxford Shirt - 160L$
Hands : Maitreya – Armwarmers – Magnolia – 75L$

Pants : Coco – Zipper Leather Pants – 250L$
Socks : En Svale – Knee Socks – Olive - Free
Shoes : Maitreya – Neyya – Olive Leather – 375L$

Bijou : Sad’s Jewells – Ring Falling Stars – 790L$

Bag : Courtisane – Sacoche - Free
Camera : Traceon Electronic – M9 – 250L$

Pose : Glow Studio – Paparazzi – NO photo please – 30L$

Shop SLurls : Click

Did you watch PBB with Toni Gonzaga?  When Kaitlin, that exchanged PBB housemate from Finland, was here, I was actually one among the many who giggled over her brief love story with Hermes and I was starting to like Hermes coz he has successfully showed Kaitlin how gentleman a Filipino can be.  However, Kaitlin has left and Hermes is back to being “single” in Big Brother’s house. Tonight however, Hermes has shown how insensitive he can also be!

He is well-aware of Carol’s feelings for him. They used to be close when Carol was still in the other house. When Carol’s team was doing their cheer, they rapped a portion where they made it appear as if Hermes is busted because he “cheated” on Carol with Kaitlin. It was actually supposed to be just a joke. But Mariel started saying “Hermes and Carol were never a couple so Hermes has nothing to explain” and the one that took the cake was when Hermes himself said “Who’s the assuming one who thought something was going on“? OUCH! I felt for Carol! And my irritation toward Mariel grew even more. I just don’t like her. That girl just does not have any tact.

Ada yang bilang, kita berperang setiap hari. Dan perang tersulit adalah melawan diri sendiri.

Saat kita di ujung detik untuk bertindak, mengambil resiko dan keputusan-keputusan. Ia datang lewat suara kecil di otak.

Waktu belajar:
Nonton bola dulu, biar belajarnya tenang dan gak kepikiran. Beli snack dulu aja, biar belajarnya sekalian lama. Toh masih ada besok. Belajar sekarang juga gak akan ngerti, malah pusing.

Waktu latihan dan olahraga:
Pas precision jump: kejauhan itu, jangan lompat.. emang sih fisik lo udah siap dan mampu, tapi kan masih ada kemungkinan gagal juga. Kalo dapet apesnya gimana?
Liat tuh, yang lain juga udah mau pindah tempat, ambil tas aja gih sana. Besok aja coba lagi.
Progres tiap orang emang beda kan? Kalo lo ragu2 berarti masih belum saatnya. Besok aja coba lagi.

Pas renang: ga usah start dari atas, lo kan belom jago, ntar masuk air ke hidung terus tenggelam.

Ketika akhirnya gw membalik badan dan berlalu, berarti dia menang. Sekali lagi gw dipecundangi oleh suaranya. Dan jika ini terus berulang, gak akan ada progres dalam apapun yang gw perbuat.

Sebenernya, nggak semua yang dia bilang itu menyesatkan. Toh insting rasa takut, khawatir, penuh perhitungan, itu terlahir sebagai alat perlindungan juga. Tapi lebih sering dia salah. Menakut-nakuti dengan berlebihan. Terlalu paranoid untuk melindungi tubuh yang ditumpanginya.

Jadi, apa yang harus gw lakukan? Diam, dengarkan dia baik-baik (siapa tahu yang dia bilang ternyata masuk akal!). Catat nasihat dan peringatannya, lalu simpan dengan label ‘telah dibaca’. Lalu suruh dia tutup mulut, dan kita kembali fokus ke apa yang harus dihadapi.

Dia memang jago membujuk. Gimana enggak? Dialah yang paling kenal kita, lebih dari saudara atau sahabat-sahabat terdekat. Dan dia akan muncul di tiap pertempuran kita, sambil menyilangkan tangan dan tersenyum hangat. Wajahnya familiar dan akrab. Lalu dia akan menghampiri dan berujar dengan pengertian, “jangan, coba yang berikutnya aja. Aku yang paling mengerti kemampuanmu.”

Tapi, kita juga mengenalnya sebaik ia mengenal kita. Jadi ketika dia mulai membujuk, kita tahu pendapatnya kadang benar, tapi sering salah. Jadi kita hanya tersenyum menatapnya, berpikir, lalu memutuskan sendiri.

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Diilhami oleh postingan2 ini:

Peperangan (soal rasa takut, sugesti, dll)
Translated by Edmund, original post by Parkour Generations.
http://www.parkourindonesia.web.id/forum/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=1750

Original Post:
War, by Dan Edwardes
http://www.parkourgenerations.com/blog/2009/08/war.php