Khao San Road

OK I just posted a few more pics on flickr.com so hit the link button if you're interested.
Is every western man in his 40's and wandering alone in Bangkok lazy, perverted or hungry? It's not like I am (well, 1 out of 3 maybe and you have to guess which one). If not, then why are the only people who talk to me wanting to sell me food, a ride on a tuk-tuk, or some sort of sex show that has women doing things that I don't want to see them doing. If curious about sex shows, ask my sister (again you'll have to guess which one) as she got "roped into it" the last time she was in Bangkok. Oops, sorry Samantha! Yesterday a tuk-tuk driver got all excited as I was walking down the street alone. And when I refused a ride he furtively glanced around then asked if I was interested in a sex show. Again I refused (yes really) and wondered if he was going to pull some food out from under the seat and try his luck a third time. I wouldn't have noticed if he had because my attention was now on the "food" stall next to his tuk-tuk. Fried bugs. How many times do I have to embarass myself here and tell you how much I hate bugs? They were dead, which is how I like them the most, but they were definitely cooked and ready to eat. As in "to ingest"...which is how I like them least...even less than in my pillow and hair. And these were not the same as some cute little worm floating at the bottom of a mescal bottle. You know, the bottle you pounded while on holiday in Mexico and got so drunk that you didn't care anymore and swallowed it whole. No...these were big and ugly and deep-fried. COCKROACHES for Pete's sake...huge ones! And praying mantises and yes even some worms in the mix. Why, I tried to imagine, would anyone not living in the deepest reaches of Borneo or maybe Ohio (that was for you Wheelz) ever pop one of those silver dollar sized things in their mouth and start grinding. It really can't taste that good. And if it tastes just like chicken then just eat a freakin' chicken! It's all exoskelton, dammit, which means shards of wings and legs will have you begging complete strangers for a tooth pick or some floss. Is it the protien lacking in ones diet that drives them to it? Is it too much reality TV that is normalizing the most abberent behavior? Or is it just drunk, bored, and stupid over tattoo'd/dread-locked/pierced 20 somethings looking for the next story to tell back home to their friends that smoked up the money they were saving for their Bangkok trip?
Because they are all here and they are starting to get on my nerves. The freaks I mean, not the bugs (well them too). I never realized that in order to travel out of the European continent/England and under the age of 23 you had to tattoo your face, or at least puncture it a few dozen times. I have been travelling with a German couple for a few days and it seems that once you're in your late 20's this travel restriction is lifted. Niether of them have spikes coming from their cheeks nor can you see behind them through dime-sized holes in their 'tribal' earlobes. But I hope they make it home alright. Apparently in order to be admitted back into your Euro country of choice you have to look even worse than when you left. That is the only explanation I have for the dozens of white people sitting in chairs in the street getting horrible hair extensions or worse the ubiquitous (and ultra cool only if you're from Jamaica and too stoned to find a comb) dreadlocks. Don't get me wrong, I love Bob Marley as much as the next white guy (AFRICA UNITE!) but I draw the line at dreadlocks. Actually I draw the line a lot closer than dreadlocks, which makes me old, and a target for the aforementioned sellers of food, sex and motorized transportation. But that seems a small price to pay to have my hair smell like shampoo rather than stale cigarettes and sweat (and bugs if they have an odor). I don't really care what people do to their own bodies of course. It just seems sad and kind of desperate to be 19 years old and trying to be so different than everyone else (just like all your friends) that you permanently out-do Michael Jackson...permanently. As in full-sleeve tattoos that run up necks to behind ears. Or facial tats, or gaping earlobes, or spikes all over the face. Whatever, I guess it makes me appreciate being an old boring guy. An unemployed-cycling-around-SE Asia-homeless-having-the-time-of-my-life-meeting-awesome-people-and-making-lifelong-friends-full-of-life-old-boring-guy. But at least I have two tattoos so I'm not that boring! Whew, thank god for ink.