2004-11-05 10:08 p.m. We moved to a new country and all the spooks are different here. I had an easy time learning to use the new phone system because it came with a bilingual manual. There were lots of diagrams. I had an easy time finding out which vegetables at the market I could eat raw because if I couldn't, I threw up right away. Which is normal. I see lots of locals doing it in the street, in the market. It wasn't hard to get a visa, to find a place to live, to find a maid who would stop by and who could be spanked, legally, if she didn't dust properly. It was illegal for me to do the spanking, but for some extra currency, a local law-enforcement officer would make a house call to perform the action where I could witness it. But the spooks here are not like I was used to. In my country, ghosts write in blood on the walls. Scary messages. Asking you to leave, usually. Thanks to the quality educational system in my country, the bloody messages are usually spelled correctly. But in this country, the illiterate spooks have to resort to crude caricature. It's quite something else to wake up in the morning to find a portrait smeared on your living room that has exaggerated buttocks. My buttocks are not unusually fat, for the record. They are the normal result of coming from a country where you can eat regularly. Unlike the cockroach-eating youths here. I have no doubt that many of them take their own lives for the express purpose of annoying expatriates like myself. I tell you, from here on out, I will be handing out much less change on my daily walks in the neighborhood. |
1. today is nice 3. happy yesterdays 8. thanks for hosting 4. doing other things |
(Proof that I am the only one reading.) |