Filed under: OBSERVATION
Quick Recap on Chiang Mai: ate a snake head but it wasn’t in an alley with guns or dangerous men it was steamed with asparagus, tunnel cluster with on-fire buddha/sleeping dogs/spider bites in nooks above and across anything and everything, sitar jam sesh with cambodian cab driver and his yet-to-be-sex-trafficked children, venom liqueur at the beginning of a market that ends with fried opaque green vegetable that i still cant figure out, lots and lots and lots of letting people touch my hair but only the parts very far from my head, deer getting weird with me by asking with their eyes are you a ghost cause im a ghost, letting a monk bum a smoke after being caught trying to molest cat fish in a lake that looks like creamed tea, watching law & order svu in a bird’s nest and driftwood sculpture hotel loft that looks over a collection of mussel-hunting boat shacks, &more&more&more
Filed under: FOOD
One of the many stops I’ll be having to make at the end of the cross country roadtrip (Sept. 2 – Oct. 4, LAX to JFK) is to Mast Brothers Chocolate in Williamsburg. Having become one of those jerks that can’t eat wax-laden Hershey’s bars anymore, my taste buds have done the 7-year-twitch and switched directly to 72%+ cacao chocolate. Besides looking like the kinds of gifts my grandmother used to give me as a child (unawares I was of how fantastical gift-wrapping is Not for most people), this stuff is made bean to bar via trips to Central America and Africa. Cuter yet, one of the brothers plays a bit of amateur banjo, which is precisely the kind of thing I want my artisan chocolate makers to be involved in. It must be like singing to plants.
Filed under: OBSERVATION
As all of the collapsible parts of the trannie ego are coming to a dust, I am discovering the low-tide of animal psyche. Things are getting pretty damn real at trannie dinner these days. Sure, it’s alright to get weird with me at the breakfast buffet (sometimes tom kha, sometimes french toast) because I have that real-pussy smell. Nevermind the fact that I’m really the only one here that has any instinct toward making the balcony greenery into a head-dress. All the dads that are now moms, the Nebraskan not-super-models, the Oxford-bred economist bitches, the subterranean creatures that are trying to pass as a woman in anything other than very very dimmed mood lighting: this one’s for you.
Tonight I promised one of them that, when I’m a doctor, I’ll have full knowledge of how to build brand new genitals on anything that has the chromosomes of a human. It’s like clapping your hands and Tinkerbell comes back to life; this is probably the closest I’ve ever come to a religious experience, Thai mtf gender reassignment commune on the coast. Amen.
Filed under: DESIGN
More than anything else in the world presently, I want this Animal Box by designer Karl Zahn; the eye doubles as a hinge, making my perfect kind of hidden universe. I am resisting ordering this thing before I get home from Thailand.
