Indiana Jones Ruins; A Historian's Wet Dream

Dear Jeff:

So we went to Bang Melea, these awesome ruins that Indiana Jones couldn't have dreamed up. Vines covering ancient temples, you name it! And wandering around these deserted ruins I couldn't have but think that you would have loved it. Then I thought this:

The Glad You're Not Here Movement

Attention, attention.

The Glad You're Not Here Movement is spreading!

It's quite astonishing, really. Everywhere I go, and everyone I meet, from Thailand to Malaysia to Cambodia, seems to share something in common. No, it's not soccer or the love of Coca Cola. It's the profound yet simple sentiment that they are all glad you're not here (see below)

If you have a video or photo that shows why you're glad Jeff Parker isn't there, you can send it here. Because we're all  glad Jeff isn't here, but for different reasons. Yes, the world is coming together, Americans and Europeans, Palestinians and Israelis, North and South Koreans, joining hands and crying into cyberspace, "Jeff, we are glad you're not here."

An Honest Mistake

This was an honest mistake. I mean, he parts his hair just like you do, and he lectured me for fifty-six minutes about the sex trade in Latin America. But I quickly realized that it wasn't you, mostly because he said he had already finished his dissertation.

BLAM!

Hot Springs, Hot Tea, Hot Food--an open letter to Jeff Parker

Dear Jeff:

It's cute you're trying. I mean, after nearly a month of half-posts and pathetic defenses of a cat, for god's sake, you finally come up with a list. Cute. Problem is, your format is totally unoriginal, and you're not as funny as David Letterman, who is, in turn, not as funny as half a sandwich stuffed in an oreo cookie container.

So let's get real.

Take a look at this.

I chose to only show you the outside of this hot springs theme park. Yes, that's right--it's not a typo. It's a theme park WITH, nay, BUILT around a natural hot springs. Inside, there were slides and a wave pool and four different hot springs. There was also a petting zoo--I won't further humiliate you by telling you which animals (monkeys).

I also didn't want you to think that my relative silence the last few weeks was some admission that you are, in fact, clever. Granted, it was a sly move to send that family of Indians to steal my camera, wallet, and ipod. But let's face it. You've got nothing on me, Parker. For example: two weeks ago, when you were sipping on your Vagina juice hot tea that your poor wife has to cover for and say is hers, I was in the Cameron Highlands, having fresh tea. Take a look.

I mean, look at all that beautiful tea. But don't worry, I'm sure Liptons is delicious too--if you have the pallet of a commoner.

I'm not even sure it's worth the effort to explain to you how good this dish was--eel, fried fish, peanuts, and a delicious spicy red sauce. So I'll just mention that it cost a dollar. But it's cool--you've got great seafood in Texas. All BP oil-encrusted. Mmm...so.....good....

#8

Number 8: Jeff can enjoy Torchy's Tacos all by himself.

(Make sure you get a good look at these fine, delicious tacos. Scratch and sniff screen technology enabled.)

Paul Schaeffer: "Oh, yummy!"

Drumroll.... #9

Number 9: Don't have to explain to Danny the concept of a hat and how it is unnecessary to "balance" it on your head.

[Paul Schaeffer: Youch. That's a zinger!]

Top Ten Reasons I'm Glad You're Not Here

Recently, I was talking with my friend Dave, an avid reader of this blog. He said to me: "Jeff, I think that it's time for you borrow my schtick. It's called 'the Top Ten List'."

"Dave are you sure," I replied, "I'm just an aspiring blogger with revenge and hatred in my cold shriveled heart and that's your money maker. I mean you make millions off that dumb---"

"Jeff, do it," he reassured me, "you have a my permission. And it is not 'dumb...' It's a clever comedic framing devise to poke fun at your frienemies."


"Ahhh," I responded, "That's not a bad idea Dave. But do your frienemies' feelings ever get hurt or do they get upset with you for publically humilating them or by destroying their pathetic egos?"

"Well, only Sarah Palin," Dave lamented, "...and Osama Bin Laden. We haven't spoke for years now."

"But Danny is a sensitive guy," I wondered outloud. "I often have to put my chin gently on the back of his head as he sobs into my bosom to soothe his hurt feelings. Worst yet, he's all the way over in Southeast Asia alone... by himself..."

"But you told me Rami was holding his hand over there," Dave said. "Rami's chest should work fine too. Back in the 80s, Paul Schaeffer used to fake cry into his bosom just to cop a feel."

"Oh, I didn't know that. I thought it was just me..."

[Fade to black.]

[Applause.]


Okay, here we go. Top ten reasons why I'm glad that Danny's not here! [Drum roll] Number 10!

#10: No longer have to help Danny shave his left eyebrow just to scare the neighborhood kids.

(Disclaimer note: Dave told me that Top Ten Lists are not intended to be very funny).

Stay Tuned for #9....

Excuse me.... Bijou Kicks Ass

Hopelessman,

This has gone on far too long. You can mock me all you want. You can suggest that I am a howler monkey taking it up the arse. But how dare you continue your vicious smear campaign against Bijou. She IS the most perfect (ahem, puurrrrrrrfect) cat in the whole wide world. This is beyond a doubt. Indisputable.

Let me demonstrate:

You don't get cuter than this.

Those Southeast Asian alley cats don't even know how to properly manicure their nails. (Danny, the other paw is casually flipping you the bird).

And Bijou is a travelling kitty. She packs her own suitcase and then sits on it until we're all ready to leave.




She also knows how to open drawers to get her clothes before a big trip. In addition, she is trained to open the kitchen cupboards, cook us dinner, and wash dishes.



Finally, she is portable. Fits in box and easy to store.

Danny, all those ugly, flea-ridden, half-starved dumpster cats over there don't stand a chance against Bijou. You've lost this one my frienemy.

Penang, land of bliss

No, Jeff. I don't mean turkey, or "western food," as they call it here. I mean Chinese food, and Indian food. And they're both in Penang. So while you were wolfing down your turd-ducken or whatever, I was eating the following...

This is Laksa. Egg, fish, onion, pineapple, MINT, for God's sake.

Curry soup. Straight up. Fish balls, potato, simple and good.

Blam! Fried onion crisp and Samosa, sucka!

I'll include some writing for this one, because I know you would have liked it. Nay, loved it. It's called an Ais Kacang. Start with ice and syrup, add sweet milk, top it off with coconut shavings, ice cream. Then, pick your own jellied fruits. Weep now.

Rami asked for a drink, then pointed to a coconut. That's what happens in Malaysia.

In Penang, we toured the island on motorbikes, which is like your bicycle, only not sucky. And faster. We went to a spice garden, butterfly garden, AND snake temple. That's right, snakes.

Oh, and when I was wandering around, I found a cat cuter than yours...

I'd eat Bijou for breakfast.

 Yes, being in Penang got me thinking. If someone were keeping score of this blog, who would be winning?


Then, I wondered if it would be possible to find a pictoral representation of our blogular tug of war.


Then, I found what I was looking for...

Guess which one you are...

I thought to end the blog here. With you weeping into your patient wife's arms. Then I remembered, there was a toy museum!!! And guess what kind of toys I found.

That's right, bitch.

I believe you know this scene, but just in case...

Turkey Day

Dear Diary,

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I was most thankful that Danny was not there. Oh, sweet sweet turkey day. I ate my own personal turkey and then a whole turducken. I've never been so full. Best yet, there were two sides of gravy. Delicious homemade focaccia bread. Scrumpcious stuffing. Oh so yummy. The next morning we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast of biscuits and gravy. Hmm biscuits and gravy. And thank god Danny was not there.

I began wondering about the joys of Thanksgiving in other parts of the world. What do they eat for Thanksgiving in Malaysia? Do they eat turkey and gravy there too?

Tatutao

If only this were the island where they filmed Lost, the sentiment would be complete. But, Tarutao was just where they filmed SURVIVOR. So here I was, surviving on this island of monkeys about you.

Note: I rejected two additional films. One singing a song about how I prefer the company of monkeys to you, the other me mistake you for a rather homely looking monkey...

The Mangrove Forest

Ko Mook

I felt so strongly about this, I even wrote a song.

Let Me Now Inform You... of Your Gameinformer

Dear Diary,

Today was a good day. I fell asleep reading Gameinformer. So much witty highbrow critique of the latest what's what and who's who of the interactive electronic arts world. Most importantly I learned a valuable lesson that resonates with core principles of the human experience. In the latest Force Unleashed II DLC you can go to Endor and kill Ewoks. Yes, humankind's mortal enemy: cute midgets dressed up in furry teddy bear costumes. If this doesn't send you into dreamland, I don't know what will.

P.S.

Also, Final Fantasy is coming out with Final Fantasy XIV. I can't wait. Oh wait, yes I can.

This cat being awesomer than yours

In your world, my once-friend, your cat rules you. It shreds your clothing, poops in your shoes, and lazes about. Not here.

Here,  cats do shit. Look at all those amulets. No shopkeeper around, but they're all still there. Why? Super cat? Guarding these priceless amulets which bestow the powers of the Gods. If this was your cat, they'd all be gone. Zilch.

Yep, if your cat was here, it'd destroy Thailand in no time flat..

What's your cat's name again? Worthless Stinkerton. Ah yeah, that's it.

Oh, and below, an awesome soup. I didn't save you any. What's that?

Nope. All out.

No soup for you.

This soup lets you live forever. Have fun with mortality.

Now Jeff, you're probably saying, "Big deal, we have tacos like this is Austin." But your tacos are a sham--there is no equivalent for the Thai creme dessert taco in Austin. Sure, you could go to your local pizza hut and get one of those dessert pizzas, but it wouldn't be the same. Now go find a non-dessert taco to cry in, sucka!

These ladies are glad you're not here too.