Another Weekend in PP

“Just say…”
Friday night saw Khmerican enjoying post-Joker beers at WA. Once fully juiced for the trip, he decides it is time to depart for M. V-bunny decides she’s had enough and asks Khmerican to drop her off at the pad on the way to M (Khmerican is always happy to oblige the request of allowing him to go to M unencumbered!).

Later in the night, upon exiting the dance floor at M, Khmerican gets a phone call from V-Bunny asking if he had lost his driver’s license. K checks the front shirt pocket and sure enough, it’s gone missing. Seems that upon pulling out his stylish eyewear in front of WA, his DL fell out as well. Motodop calls V-bunny and says that it was found (K suspects security guard) and finder will return it for $10. Message relayed to K. “Tell him to ‘F-off!’”, was his response. V-bunny is astonished by this response and asks K to repeat it. “You heard me…F-off!”

You see, Khmerican hates to be extorted for money, especially by a Khmer, and he’d rather endure the cost of $30 to replace it.

Next day, K has forgotten all about (see "upside down" later in this post) it when V-bunny calls him to inform him that Dop has returned the license to her and she donated $2 to him. Dumbass – if he would have simply told me that he had found it, I would have given him $5 to $10. His loss for being a dickhead.

DO NOT SUPPORT DOP’S TYPE OF BEHAVIOR!


M&M Redux
Saturday night saw the annual thanks-for-putting-up-with-my-ramblings-you-upside-down-drinking-mo-fo’s/top-shelf-wine-blowout/oh-yeah-and-it-also-happens-to-be-my-birthday party for MM of M&M at CA2, catered by Big Al as only he can do.

All seemed to have a good time but MM should be careful when joking about his age, as his dear Srey M (who looked exquisite that evening) bought double nickel candles for the cake. Fortunately, Khmerican discovered this before presentation and Srey M was able to change out one of the 5s with a 4.

King Fisher was last seen clutching tightly to a bottle(s), a sight not seen since he had his claws dug into a Tequila bottle at the original M closing party. Certainly hope he fared better on this night.

Happy Birthday and a big thanks from all of us MM!!! Many, many more!


Pick on Someone your own gender
Sunday was thought to be uneventful until Khmerican showed up and WA and heard of Napoleon exhibiting his fighting prowess. Trouble is, he chose a woman as his victim. Seems that the little-man complex was brought about when Napoleon had lost a game of pool and wanted to play again. Girl tells him “no”, a girl plays first then he can. He protests a bit and when the girl wins, he comes back to play the next game, tells girl something like, “Don’t f*cking talk to me like that,” closes his fist, and next thing she knows, she's eating a knuckle sandwich.

When male WA guests jump to her defense, and she scratches his face and threatens that if he show his face again his days of this life are through, sissy boy retreats to the safety of his own room, never to be seen again that night.

Initial report from Security at WA on Monday was that he checked out early Monday and has not been seen since. Later reports were that he had been evicted.

But he is said that have been looking for a teaching job here, so if any of you educators of the leaders of tomorrow see a late-40’s/early 50’s, short, bald/balding guy, with a problematic half/closed eye and scratches on his face, do not reward this behavior. Scum like this need to be out of Cambodia, and off of this planet.

BTW, apparently Little Man had an episode with the WA Night Manager 1 or 2 nights prior, where all sorts of expletives were streaming from his mouth. Why was this guy still staying at WA? Are there no balls there other than the shriveled peanuts of this guy? We sure do miss you there Bill!


This & That
R-Cat reporting regular losses. Not the SuperLotto variety, but more of the “how could I possibly have spent that much money?” type. Well, R-Cat, if you don’t remember conversing with me the night before, there’s a good chance that you don’t remember all of the R-Pussies scratching at you or with their paws in your pocket. Could also have something to do with that little V that you keep taking home. You know…the one that you keep telling me that you’re not going to take any longer. Could it be that one of the R-Pussies has finally figured out that if she takes a little at a time, she’ll continue to get invited back to the den?

The Canadian Courier is back in town. After a brief resurfacing, the Canadian Couriee/Weasel has once again disappeared, for fear of his physical condition (which is far from a pretty sight). Always a good thing, as others will actually get a chance to get something to eat at the Thanksgiving Day Feast put on by Big Al (with the help of Waco) at Sharkey’s. Welcome back.

And a big shout to KYGreg. After his recent trip to the PI, we found out that there is more than one meaning for the KY in his name. Nothing physical folks, but the AC crew did bend him over and give him a painful one. Hope that you're recovering well and getting a little sympathy from the Thai lasses up in U.T. Hope to see you soon.

Bon OM Tuk this weekend.
Any of you that have not made the wise decision to get out of town for the Water Festival should head on down to CA2 for the fun. There’ll certainly be an assortment of characters there (as there always is) and it’s great fun to watch the province chickies go by...yeah, and the boats too. Watch your bags, pockets, and sanity should you venture down to the riverfront.

Pontoon should be a good location for this as well, but personally, me thinks not my crowd. Good luck to The Connoisseur.

New Jack City?

Brick to the head:
Well, mad & shoeless Musician left the California 2 Guesthouse party Sunday night, made it to within a couple blocks of his house, and got smashed on the back of the head with a brick. He woke up bleeding, phoneless, and without his cash. Fuckers got a $150 phone and $5 in cash.

He reckons a moto he picked up on the riverfront after the party set him up. Was it one of the (ex) Shanghai bitches kiddie crew? No clue. Some of them looked the part, and if they run with those women, they'll always be short of cash.

Note: The motodops on the riverside are some of the worst in town. Set a price before you get on, and know where you are going (or act like you do.) The ones at California2 are the only ones I trust.

Snatch (and not the good kind):
A couple days later, Capt. Electric was on the receiving end of a bag-snatch attempt by 3 scooter douches on a Chaly. They didn't get shit, but the message is clear:

It's still Cambodia. Try to keep a heads up, and if you are too fucked up to get home - try to wait it out.

We can take solace in the fact that someday these evil little bastards will wind up on the wrong end of an angry mob and..."Good Night Vibol."

I look forward to jerking off on your funeral pyre.

Note:
Tasers at the Central Market: $28 (last time I checked.) A Khmer will be able to get a better price.

Hey Bong....

I vowed to avoid the Water Festival crowds this year, so I didn't leave my place until 11:30pm. The streets were busy, but manageable. Special thanks to that group of 10-12 garment workers for not accepting my invitation to go out and get bombed. It would have killed my budget.

Sharky Bar: 11:45pm-2am
Pretty quiet. Where is everyone? No matter. Good crowd of locals and some quiet conversation. What I remember:

• The California 2-sponsored Water Fest racing boat won twice yesterday. On to the next round.
  
• The Player-hater I blasted in yesterday's post is, in fact, a killer lay. My opinion of her has changed 180 degrees.
  
• The land I didn't buy in Stung Meanchey a couple years ago has more than doubled in price.
  
• Good (bad) brawl in front of the Royal Palace gave the folks stuck in traffic something to enjoy. 6 angry Khmers going at it with fists, elbows, flying kicks, and 2x4s. One dude was down for a while, and he may not be getting up again - ever. Best part - the cops breaking it up with all the necessary force we've come to expect. The 2 unlucky enough to be caught got tossed a serious beating. Rodney fuckin' King-style. Note: The bad guys over here are well and truly bad and I don't have an ounce of sympathy for either of them.
  

By 2am I was kind of loaded and in no mood to head up to Martinis. We decided to hit Street 104.

Pickled Parrot: (2am-3am)
Bastard Motodop pulled an, I don't have change for your dollar-trick. Fuck that. It's 2am and he's been working all night; he has change. He just wants you to forfeit the whole dollar. Tell them you'll pay them tomrrow and see how quicky they produce your change. Fuckers. Bar 104 was closing down, so I was relegated to the Land of $2.50 vodkas.....At least it's smoke friendly, and they have good music - and if you really get bored, they have a nice aquarium to look at. It was the only thing open. Many thanks to Boozil for his funny dancing and drink spills. It was great fun - much better than the aquarium. 2 drinks and out.

Howie's Bar: (3am-5am)
Howie was in an angry mood. My guess is he tallied the cost of last night's magnanimous open-bar gesture and....he's not happy. But I was just fine. Good time watching an angry waitress swing a cleaver at The Fat Lensman. Even though I vowed never to buy another lady drink at Howie's, I felt the need to reward (and nurture) her anger with a shot of tequila. It was money well spent. ($2.50) The fist waving, cleaver swinging, and well placed curses were good entertainment. As was Howie and the Lensman's attempt to work out a new rule for the pool table. (Something about NO SNOOKERING.) By 4:30 I was ready to go home when DiverUK and DiverOZ (drunk, E'd-up, and surly) came in flanked by 2 bodyguards; they started buying rounds. They'd just raised a ruckus at the Heart (nice) and were looking for more shit to get into. To the Walkabout.

Walkabout:
Security didn't look happy to see us. Another drink and then someone began handing out tablets. I declined. The divers started in on a couple patrons when my favorite nasty VN sauntered over and said those magic words, "Hey Bong, I suck your cock?" Yes. I was about to make the date when I heard the divers talking about The Naga. They wanted me to come along. The Naga Casino at 6am with 2 fired-up soccer hooligans....How could I say no? Besides, it's like a train wreck. You can't stop it - you can only sit back and watch it happen. Off we went.

Naga Casino:
They only had beer - no spirits. Fuck the Naga. It was mostly empty and quiet, but it wasn't quiet for long. DiverOz had worked in a casino and knew how to play, how to count cards, all the tricks...He was ready to win. It didn't take long for them to get intensely into the game. I'm not sure if it was the shouting, the banging on the table, or the leaning over the table to get in the dealer's face that attracted about 8 security guards/cops to our table. I do know that trying to tip one with a vial of powder is a bad idea and so is causing a commotion at the Naga. I didn't think that we were that bad, but by Naga standards...The Management wasn't diggin' it. By 7:30 I was ready to go. I tried to get them out but they got the bug and maybe they were winning. These are cool dudes and I'm hoping they made it out in one piece and with enough money to get back to their hotel.

I got home, did a bong hit, and soccer kicked a cockroach out my front door. A happy ending.

It's All About the Cell Structure

I hit Sharky last night to see what was up and check out the band. Here's what I can remember:

Ass-wipe Motodop:
I should have known...Always be wary of motos that smile and speak to you in English. Also, when the guy stops 40 ft away from the bar, it's because he's going to try and rip you off, and he doesn't want the other motos and security guards to see it. In the end, it was pitiful attempt to try and get $1 for a 50 cent ride. My advice: make him stop at the entrance. If he won't take the money, put it on the seat and walk away. Oh, and don't forget to tell him to Fuck Off.

Curtis King Band - Unplugged.
Very unplugged. They didn't play. The gig in Siem Reap was a hassle and the band was beat. Apparently, the rich Indians they were playing for had all sorts of special requests and were a real pain in the ass. Fuck it; the band will be back this way soon.

There's a New Vodka in Town.
It's cool. It's clear. It's organic. It's $25 a case. UK 5. "...UK5 Organic Vodka uses only the world’s purest water and the world’s finest organic grain which has a denser cell structure for making premium vodka..." It was the cell structure that made me drink so damn much of it last night. Goes down a bit too smoothly. I'd had 9 of them before I realized I was too drunk to walk a straight line to the bathroom, so I grabbed a pen and started scribbling nonsense on my arms. Thank you UK5.

Howies Bar sans Sausage.
Even Howies was a bit slow last night. Howies burgeoning sausage empire has a problem. No sausage. The supplier took his staff to Kampot, and the result - a cold grill. No word on when he'll be back at it. Maybe he did say something about it, but by that time, I had about 11 drinks in me. I watched drunken customers seduce the hapless barstaff, and even considered buying a waitress a ladydrink. When such thoughts start to creep in, it's time for Walkabout.

Walkabout:
We got there past 5am and it was Dead. Where the fuck is everyone? I think the few male customers actually outnumbered the ladies. Depressing. Didn't bother to finish my drink.

On the way home, I hit the new 1-2 Convenience store on 63 Street. I like it. A store full of items priced $1.47, $2.54, $3.36, and so on. Anyway, if you find yourself without diet coke or rolling papers at 3am, you know where to go.

Countess Chocula

We met at My Lien and then shot off to Sharky Bar. Be warned, the motodops near My Lien and Tom's Irish Bar are bunch of douche bags. I spit on them 10,000 times. (!!) Of course, this is NGO-land. They are used to dealing with spineless morons. My humble advice: Set the price before you go, and don't be afraid to tell them to fuck-off.

We made it to Sharky and started to mingle. Everyone seemed to be out last night. It was an atmosphere fueled by liquor, marching powder, and the wonderful promise of dirty sex. They all make this place special.

Most of what was said was hearsay, gibberish, and nonsense. Some of it I remember:

• The California 2 is about ready to re-open. He had a small pre-opening party and by all accounts, the place looks really good. Congrats.
• There are unconfirmed reports that a Nigerian scamster accidentally fell off the balcony the other night. If it's true, I'd like to congratulate the balcony. (Damn fine work!)
  
• The price of vodka has risen. Stoly used to be $3.70/bttle. Now it's up to $5 or $6.
• If there are no red rings around the base, it isn't a wart.

I even bought "fecalpheliac" girl a drink. Some drunk dude kicked her out of his hotel room once without paying, and she was just drunk enough to shit into her hands and smear it all over his door. (Steaming anger?) May she be reborn as a chambermaid. (Or maybe a Japanese porno star.)

Hemmingway had Paris in the '20s. This is better.

2am was approaching. I bopped around from Martini, (killer chick-guy ratio, African had a drunk Asian tourist interested in an exciting business venture), to Howies,(where French people demanded our weed), and finally, Walkabout, where I hooked up with Countess Chocula because she know how to work mr. jimmy. Mr. Jimmy got worked.

And that was it. The usual Friday night/Sat morning shenanigans. I didn't find a cure for cancer, create the perfect shoe bomb, or try and change the world in any way. I found a Chocolate Countess who knows how to work the jimmy. Is that so wrong?