Back from Phuket 2 days ago and arrive in Bangkok after spending a nice lush 5 days or so in complete jungle land, 30 minutes away in a car from a supermarket or any form of civilization (kfc). I had a sudden taste for ganja on my mind and it must have been about 1am in the morning. Fuck it I say. I collect all my pennies and walk to the Soi Cowboy (the redlight district street of bangkok). At the very end of the street there are around 10 taxi drivers who usually delve in other *cough* remedies other than booze and sex can offer.

I walk up to the one short fella by the name of John and instantly ask him if he can get his hands on some. He asks me how much I have, I of course stupidly tell him the entire amount of my wallet. 1340 baht. go to xe.com and do the currency exchange because I can’t be assed working it out. He tells me this will get me a healthy sum which I’m pleased to hear, gets on his phone and calls this ‘dealer’ right away. It’s now 10 past 1 in the morning. He tells me it will be 10 minutes away. Funnily enough, 40 minutes pass and still no dealer as he’s being interrogated by cops or some shit. Who the fuck knows. I could barely make out every 2nd word he said. 40 minutes turns into an hour, then suddenly John starts panicking and starts looking the fuck around everywhere underneath cabs and inside smelly garbage bins looking for his fucking car keys. Here’s where it gets good, the stupid prick decided to pocket my 1340 baht and put it inside the cab and lock it before proceeding to lose the keys. Fucking idiot. So now if the dealer rocks up, no go as there’s no fucking cash.

It takes me roughly 20 minutes to figure this out as his English was so fucking bad, he then offers for one of his friend drivers to drive me back to the house (2 minutes away) to go pickup some more cash so I can just get this exchange done and over with. We drive back, pick up more money, drive back. Then the driver is looking at me as if he’s expecting something. You guessed it, a fucking fee for driving me. The standard taxi rate is 39baht, he asked for 200. I then had to act as if I would beat him the fuck up if he didn’t lower the price to a still costly 100 baht. Not a lot for us but a lot for them. Still, I don’t like getting fucked over on deals. Get out of the cab and by now its about 3am. Soi Cowboy is now closing and it’s getting a bit suss for me to just be standing around a bunch of taxi drivers talking shit with them for hours if the police are watching. I get Johns mobile number, arrange to meet him the next day at 5pm at the same place where he would reimburse me and then deliver me the goods. Fine. I can go home and sleep now.

The next day: After a good nights sleep and some l4d2 I got my ass to the taxi end of Soi Cowboy where I proceeded to wait another 10 fucking minutes, John then rings me while he’s across the road so he can identify me and see if i’m getting tailed by police or uc’s (undercovers). He quickly crosses the road, somehow hails a random taxi driver, then discusses the situation as it is with me in the back seat. (Do all taxi drivers in Bangkok take some sort of brotherhood pledge or something?) He then tells me the police have been watching me as I was standing around being a fuckwit doing nothing near a bunch of taxi drivers and they (the police) are convinced that John has been selling or buying cocaine off me. He then tells me that 1000 of my baht which I gave him went to bribing the police so they would fuck off. Awesome work John, must have been really fucking convincing you little fuck. Now I’m apparently on police footage. Hi mom!

Another friend of his who happens to be quite abusive in tone suddenly jumps in on our conversation and asks me if I want some yaba (thailands tiny red pill of crystal meth). He tells me it would be 1500 for one pill when 2 or 3 years ago I had purchased two for that much. I told him to get fucked as I only had 850 and not a penny more. He looks at me disappointed until he realises that I’m actually telling the truth. We jump out of this taxi that decided to be a speakeasy for us, cross a 8 carlane road without trying to get hit by a motorbike or a car and jump in Johns rental taxi. We then proceed to drive for about 30 minutes, 10 to get there and grab the pill, 20 to get a lift back to mine. Fucking hell what a hassle and a half.

Get home, smoke up 80% of it straightaway to see if its any good and can’t feel a fucking thing, awesome stuff! By this time, Don’s friend Andrew (a tf2 player who’s half native to Thailand) is over and they’re sinking a few beers and watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Time to join them and partake in the festivities of couchlife. Dinner gets served just before the Nightman Cometh episode finishes which is very costly as we didn’t get to hear them sing the song of dayman and nightman.

After this we take our asses to the Soi Cowboy where the goal was actually to get a few beers down us and perve on a few chicks. Turns out the chicks…not so great. Beer…was ok. The live music…best thing there even though one of the lead singers decided to sing Dancing Queen by Abba. And then a random Korean bloke starts doing karaoke while the band knows exactly what the fuck to play. wtf?!! Inbetween another band taking over, CCR was played continuously to Don’s delight. Tis don, Tis Good. This was redeemed by another band taking over a few minutes later and playing Take Me Home Country Road by John Denver. Oh how I sang my little heart out, maybe this yaba was actually working?

Now it was time to leave this joint and hit up a place by the name of Revolution in RCA. This was a big fucking nightclub that had three pretty big sections. There seemed to be around 100 staff on location, a bathroom attendant and many many staff for the purposes for taking drinks from the counter to tables. It cost a small fee to get a table inside and to block up up the dance floor (good fucking idea you money hungry cunts!) A house section, an RnB Section and a Live section. Mainly thai stuff in the Live section. At this point we decided the best course of action would be to sink as much alcohol as we could and get off our faces while doing the melbourne shuffle (dancing) to an area of the club that was playing some fat beats. Oh how we danced our asses off and how I kept getting thirstier and thirstier. This amphetamine was definitely working. Shame I didn’t have a 1000 pills of my own to give out so people would fucking dance as well instead of hiring a table, a bottle of johnny walker and bottles of pepsi and nod their heads offbeat. It seemed like the DJ was not being especially appreciated. Very poor, VERY POOR.

After pretty much sweating a shitload and dancing all over the dance floor like we owned it, we suddenly realised that tables had now cropped up all around us and it was pretty much impossible for us to even fucking move without bumping into someone. Well, there goes that idea of dancing in a fucking nightclub you stupid fucking management wankers. We head outside and make contact with some friendlies from Hong Kong who couldn’t understand a single freaking word that Don said. That was some amusing shit. All he was trying to say was that he was from Australia and he basically had to draw a map of the world and the countries in relation in Australia. Then once they got it they just kept saying, SYDNEY!!!!!!!

Then the guys basically ask us to talk to two blonde chicks and get them to join us as they were too scared to initate conversation. I hope it was the language barrier that was preventing them as they werent the most gorgeous of girls and weren’t especially intimidating. We left to go back inside while I told the girls that those fellas would be interested in spending some time with them if they wish. She snobbed me off like I was trash. Fucking bitch. At least the fellas were grateful for me trying. When we got inside, Andrew was suddenly pulled aside by a pretty cute thai girl and almost started grinding away with her on the dance floor, then proceeded to get some. Don started doing the same with another chick by that point and that left me holding my dick talking to 3 girls, one of the girls took me outside and we had a cigarette together, she was pretty damn gorgeous and from Laos learning ‘beauty school’. She told me that Laotian people have to know roughly 5 languages to get around in their city. Fuck me! She then told me to hit on the thai girl inside called Banot, (yes, like a donut).

I started talking to her and she was a pretty nice girl, had a normal life, worked like a dog 6 days a week and went at her work hard, 8am to 9pm daily. After about an hour of chatting with her and her friends, we had gotten quite sociable and amiable towards one another and Don and Andrew were basically dry humping their girls so I felt a bit out of touch. The DJ suddenly whipped out YMCA and the whole place erupted for YOUNG MAN. OOOOOOH YEAAAAHHHHHHH. The place started to get lit up around now and it was about closing hours. I got pulled aside by the cute thai chick and was told, hey, if you want me to come home with you that’ll be 5000 baht. I was gasping for air…what??? I thought you were a fucking normal thai girl not a fucking prositute you filthy little slut box. She then proceeds to tell me the same would apply for Don and Andrew. I call Don over with his girl and explain this predicament. Don has a look of WTF on his face and his bitch suddenly detatches from him like floatsam (or is it jetsam). Holy shit, this whole time we were dancing and talking with part time hookers. They leave the place promptly.

I quickly notice one of them walking towards a shopping complex back alley, I run up to the last of the group and notice that they all have pimps with them now, young pimps too, like 24, the oldest being 30 or so. I started to pick on the 30yr old and telling him he’s a filthy fucking swine cunt and I’d fucking kick his face in for pulling fucking stunts like this on unsuspecting strangers. Woe is Thailand. Woe is Thailand. I start getting in his face and all he does is smile, deeper and deeper, and deeper. FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU way to antagonise me you stupid motherfucker. I start pushing him around to try and get him to punch me as I was feeling well fucked off the yaba and really in the mood to do some stupid shit. He does nothing while his whore slut who was attached at the hip with Don no more than 2 minutes ago is trying to get a security guard who’s standing a few feet away to do something. He does nothing. I laugh while they walk down a stairwell where I’m at a banister above them and spit the biggest loogie I can aiming for his bald head. Hmm, maybe he was older than 30? I missed his head and hit his pants instead. Score! Now im expecting retribution as its a very very disrespectful thing I’m told to be spat on. I wait around for a few seconds and nothing happens. They just keep walking their merry way as if the night was like any other night. What the fuck is wrong with whorey Thai women?

Oh well, I turn around and suddenly notice that Don & Andrew were following me closely behind. No fucking wonder no retribution was dealt! We proceeded to hail a cab about 15 seconds later and get home within the next 5 or so minutes, sharpish. Andrew comes upstairs and grabs his bag then heads back downstairs to go back home while Don heads to bed. I attempt to do the same thing but end up researching how to sms spam someone as I did get Bonut’s number and could bombard her with alot of abusive texts now. Suddenly feeling weasy I have a big fucking spew then brush my teeth and get ready for bed. Lie down, BAM. All I can feel is the substance of meth running through my head and body. Oh goddammit. I thought it was gone already! I queue up the entire 4th season of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia on low volume and try to get myself to sleep, about 3 hours later I realised this was a lost cause and ate a shitload of anti anxiety and anti psychotic pills to try and get my brain and body to slow down. Nothing.

Now I have gastric diarrheoa and im craving imodium. I grab a few from dads bedroom and take them along with my nighttime meds. My stomach proceeds to foam into a convulsing pit of white garble and the toilet recieves another hit from my loving mouth. There goes all those meds. I then lie down in bed until 9am and decide its time to finally complete the first L4D2 campaign. I had gotten the censored version and it was incredibly fucking lame in comparison to the non-censored. When you kill a zombie, they just disappear rather than their limbs going flying off. Real fucking lame. I wish I could unbuy the game and buy it again using the US/UK copy. Still awake now and its quarter to 5pm. Flight to japan in about 3 hours and I should be getting some much needed rest on that short 5-6hour flight.

Cheerio and Merry Xmas. and Happy Channukah and Ramadan and all your fucking holidays stuffed in a sack.

tigs

<@tigs> wow that was interesting
<@tigs> 3-4 dreams, all merging into each other
<@tigs> but with the same storyline
<@tigs> having a house party and realise i forgot to lock the door and my plasma etc is going to get stolen so get cabbie to drive back so i can close the place up, pick up 20-30 white anti-anxiety pills i take and my iphone and lock up the place
<@tigs> then suddenly im in some rural bar/pub in the midwest of america
<@tigs> and for some reason got 10 of my pills laid out on the table so i could take 3-4 and count them

<@tigs> next thing i know im fucking half passed out and cunts are stealing them off me thinking they’re topgrade ecstasy pills
<@tigs> next dream, wake up and the bar owner wants a word
<@tigs> he has two big fucking gashes in his head from being stabbed multiple times from trying to stop two cunts who had taken my pills and gotten into a punchon

<@tigs> then hes gurgling up huge amounts of blood n shit
<@tigs> next dream, wake up on the couch with the owner, owner turns around for a second and 5 cunts get in my face
<@tigs> take out like 2 of them then 3 jump me
<@tigs> next dream, wake up to matt hughes the ufc fuckwit pouring beer on my head, so i instant reaction punch the fucker as hard as i can
<@tigs> then he comes back at me with his beer bottle and starts hitting me over the head with that
<@tigs> next dream, im awake and shits still going down in the backroom of this bar, walk out into the mainroom and its like a family bistro

<@tigs> and my dad and uncle are there for some reason, tell them to get the fuck out immediately before a shitstorm hits

<@tigs> then suddenly im walking around a fucking airport terminal, then im in a hotel room
<@tigs> then im talking to some random chick with the worst teeth ive ever seen come into our room and talk about how her fan and a/c is fucked and the only solution we can come up with is opening her mini-fridge door
<@tigs> then i look out the window of the airport terminal and realise im basically looking out a runway window and can see boeing 747s roll by
<@tigs> that changes quick and the fucking scenary of the window turns into another bar
<@tigs> and then 5 cunts sit across from me leering, one gets up to have words, fucking start fighting him when hes 3x my size

<@tigs> bite half his ear off like tyson
<@tigs> then get pulled off by 3 cunts and beaten down
<@tigs> and now im awake and waiting for these ‘anti-anger’ pills to kick in so i can go back to bed

<@Malbs> and they say smoking dope does nothing to your mental well being

2 8mg pernanzine purple pills of goodness sent me back to sleep and resulted in dreams of playing friendly pick up soccer matches with huge ass africans in Africa. Maybe I just need new druqs, yea thats it…

So I’ve started studying again, well, properly studying. The type that involves actually attending classes and paying attention and not ircing and using the schools network to pipe shit off newsgroups. Hmm fuck, and here I am in some Vista class writing this and looking for the clone wars. fuck it in the goatass. I don’t think i’m exactly missing out on much when we’re being taught about how swap/page files and what the windows experience index means.

So since the last post, what has happened? Life, fucking life, and its not even hard, just fucking tiring. I had the pleasure of flying back on the 8th of January. Left Bangkok and got my ass to the airport where I had the pleasure of flying direct to Melbourne without any transfers or stopovers. Always fun standing in the huge check-in counter queue and wondering why the fuckheads in front of you don’t have their passport and planeticket/e-ticket in their hands, ready to go, BAM BAM BAM, THANK YOU MAAM.

Rollins style I wanted to fly kick the shit out of anyone who was in my way, thanks to a doctors diagnosis and having over 180 of the strongest benzodiazipines on hand;it wasn’t quite as frustrating to see the masses of morons get to the counter. Only then to fish through their huge carry on luggage to find their essentials.

Still, It’s always fun standing in the ‘pleb’ line, watching the rich and beautiful make their way to the ‘1st class’ counter which would always be manned by more than enough people ready to accept a teabagging if need be. Funniest though was seeing someone who looked like Sosa from Scarface, dressed like Sosa (in white baggy beautiful clothes, all over with sandals to match), and had an amazingly good looking blonde broad accompanying him. Must have been a model who sucks like a vacuum.

Got to my counter at last, (I must say however, the way Suvarnabhumi Airport ran their check-in counters has been 10x more efficient and faster than any other airport I have had the mis-pleasure of queuing in.) greeted by a half decent looking Thai Airways ticket/counter checkin chicky. Unfortunately, she was also a royal cunt and anytime I informed her of my current sleep patterns involving me waking up to my own screams (go meds!) She seemed nonplussed and just kept informing me that the plane was ‘very full sir’. Seemed like I was in for one gaynal of a ride. Right up the AASSSSS.

That completed, I got my boarding pass, said my goodbyes to Mum and Chalky with much regret then got through immigration, upon which I went to the nearest bar and sank as many screwdrivers and sleeping pills as I could before my plane started boarding. Next stop, my departure lounge. After passing through the nice and beautiful upkeeped airport I finally got to the gate ‘E’ departure lounges where I got facefucked with a 600 person queue for a security checkpoint. FUCK ME I HATE THOSE FUCKING THINGS. More so, I FUCKING HATE DICKHEADS WHO CANT UNDERSTAND SIMPLE SIGNS THAT CONSIST OF A X THROUGH THEIR LAPTOP OR FUCKING ISO BASED CAMERAS. YOU STUPID FUCKING TWAT HEADDED DICKHEADS. 

An eternity later, I got to my gate, got my bags checked again (thanks 9/11). But not my shoes, (good work Richard Reid you moran). Got to my lounge, eagle eyeing the rows of seats, looking for a nice empty spot to plonk my ass down so I could get stuck into my book. That went fine, until two little fucking kids started throwing their apple cores at me while their parents just screamed at them, leaving me to pick up the half eaten apples and throwing them in the bin myself. FUCK YOU, YOU USELESS FUCKING PARENTS WHO CANT EVEN CONTROL THEIR 5 YEAR OLD KID. FFS SAKE YOU DUMB CUNTS, STOP BREEDING.

Woo, now it is time to get my ass on the plane and prepare for a nice long 10 hour sleep where I can indulge in my recently reacuquired dreams and at the same time hope I don’t get pulled into a lucid fantasy where the girls of playboy and me are stranded on our own private island. Nothing worse than waking up and jacking off all over the passenger in the seat next to you.

Got on the walking rampway to the plane, standing in line, then some fucking 50year old+ chinese cuntish grandma starts thinking she can cut in front of me. She did get away with it, but not without the rest of her family being denied by me standing open legged between them. SUCK IT FUCKERS. Got to my seat, 36E, a lovely middle seat but being in the front row, giving me huge amounts of legspace and the pleasure of not having anyone in front crush my legs when they feel tired, considering this was a flight that took off at midnight, I imagined the whole plane to be hoping on a nights sleep. So did I.

What followed though had to be the worst experience I’ve had in all my years of solo flying. I was placed between a Israeli girl who had just graduated highschool and was on her way back from Israel and an aussie who looked like he was in Bangkok for pingpong shows and nothing else. Got into my seat, said my hello’s then made the S T U P I D mistake of telling the girl to my left that I had been sleeping badly as of late and I might scream and I apologise in advance. Of course she freaked the fuck out and proceeded to try and get me to swap seats with anyone who would or want to. NO TAKERS LAWL. I just told her to slap the shit out of me if I do but that went down even worse…she then proceeded to interrogate me and ask if

1. Are you a gangster?

2. Which hoodlums, gangs and undesirables from Melbourne are you intimate with?

3. Is it true the Cambo Clowns cut someones lips up before they rape them to stop the screams?

4. Have you ever killed anyone?

5. Do you punch people in your sleep?

Would have thought she would have eased the fuck up after I told her NO IM FUCKING NOT after the 1st question. Guess not, having long hair and having acne holes in your face can be a downside when sitting next to a innocent looking teenage girl. I then asked her how her trip in Israel was, considering they had just killed 500 people in the West Bank and the war on Hamas was lighting ever brighter.

‘It was awesome!’

Yea, I’m sure it was for the Israelis you crazy fucking cunt. The best thing though was she was starting uni studies to become a justice lawyer so she can put the ‘bad guys’ in prison. After her nonchalant way of saying that massacring 500 people was an awesome time, I kinda knew that alot of innocent people in the wrong place at the wrong time would be getting their legal-aid lawyers ass kicked by this girl one day. 

By now the sleeping pills had started to kick into full effect with the vodka and oj swirling around my stomach nicely. Mmmm, sleep time surely. NOOOOPE. She then proceeded to beg me NOT to fall asleep as she was frightened of her own safety. FUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK. So yea, I then spent the next 5 hours trying my best to not fall asleep, watching parts of films, only for the ‘Passenger Announcement’ to pause my screen, have a pilot talk for 5 minutes about northwinds and tailwinds and other menial details that no one GIVES A FUCK ABOUT AND NEVER HAS AND WILL. Then the fucking hostesses start using the PA every fucking 15 minutes to warn us of turbulence and to restrap our seatbelts. NO FUCKING SHIT.

I gave up on watching tv shows and movies from that point and got stuck into a my book for a few hours, then passed out (woo!). Woke up 2-3 hours later to the chick still sleeping next to me, while aussie guy on my right had been comatose the entire flight before we had even taken off. What a madcunt. O how I was jealous of thee. I then proceeded to take on the inflight trivia game which had to be the hardest trivia game in the history of trivia. 

What other trivia game asks questions of you such as, ‘Which linebacker in 1952 scored 14 touchdowns in 12 games?’ or, ‘What airplane was designed in 1976 and is known for its robust wings?’, and even the TV category which had something as obscure as ‘Who was the other great star of the 1964 sitcom, ‘INSERT MOST OBSCURE AMERICAN TV SHOW EVER’. Still, the other categories such as Geo-political and History made for some fun. Sports, Airplanes and TV/Movies can go suck a huge elephant cock.

Best was when the chick woke up next to me, I asked her for help with all the Will & Grace and Friends based questions, (she knew the answers of course). Then she actually asked me if I was guessing the answers of any I got correct within the other categories. PFFFT YOU STUPID BITCH. That felt good, always fun to have no proper highschool education on paper but to obviously know alot more than someone who has had one yet never taught themselves basic history and scientific facts. Praise Jesus, Moses, Allah and Buddha. You’ve created a world full of retarded dumbfucks.

We touched town at around 1pm the next day, promptly got my ass to the dutyfree shop, (i like to shop at the duty free shop) where I saw they had increased the amount of allowed alcohol from 1 litre to 2.25 litres. BOOYA. Lucky too as I had just gained a taste for Absolut Vodka that came in PEAR flavour. Finding the nice glowing amber bottle from the point of entry, I picked them up and made my way straight to the counter. $60. Sweet as fuck. Onto the immigration line!

Now usually this is the bit I dread the most, not because of the queue, (it’s quite fast for australian passport holders actually) but because everytime I get my passport stamped and walk through, I end up getting pulled to the side then asked multiple questions of what I was declaring, what I was doing in Thailand at Christmas time (lol spending time with my family?), and what medication I was declaring. It was pretty fun declaring what I had this time around though. 

‘So…what medicine are you bringing in?’

‘Well, I’ve got a bunch for anti-anxiety/stress, another is a mood stabiliser, another is for my alopecia (/me remove hat and show him friar tuck), another is for my acne, and another is for my bipolar or explosive disorder, not sure which one yet!’

‘Ok ok ok, just go through.’

Motherfucker must have thought I was crazy. HAHA I AM!!!!! 

Next stop, baggage carousel where the entire flight waitied a good 20 minutes for our bags to start sliding down. They came eventually and I made the stupid mistake of taking the first blue bag suitcase I saw, and wheeling it away to the red/green line of customs. Luckily some dude came up to me and was like, ‘hey…isn’t that my bag?!’ I looked at the bag a bit more carefully and realised he wasnt trying to rob me, he was telling the truth. I apologised a few times and returned it to him while his wife greased me off the entire time, thinking that I stole their bag on purpose and wanted their underwear for my next drug fueled orgy. I asked them if they had any other blue bags as I didn’t want to steal their 2nd bag and cop a fist in the face and a wifes boot in my ass. Nope, no more blues. Sweet. 

My own came shortly after, made my way to customs where you get redirected to the green or red line. Green being a very nice and quick scan of your luggage through an x-ray. Red being a horrible search where they open your bags, search intensively through everything, destroying the packing effort myself and Mum went through to put all those items in like tetris. And if they don’t find anything there and still suspect you of importing something dangerous, they then proceed to give you a sheet of paper telling you of your rights and you are now being requested to get body searched. (Not naked or cavity search mind you). Although if you do refuse the body search, they have the right to take you into a backroom where they can conduct an even deeper search. I’ve had the pleasure of being searched in the past by a man who looked like he was 8 feet tall and named Bjorn.

I got the green line! Wow, now this was a first. A single male in his 20s travelling from SE Asia not getting an intensive body search and all his luggage ransacked and searched!? Well, that made my ass get out of Tullamarine Airport about 30 minutes quicker than usual. Not to mention my luggage contents intact and not all over the place, making unpacking a beautiful and un-arduous process.

KONICHIWA BITCHES.

ps. I have uploaded a few youtube videos, too busy and lazy to do more, they will be coming though. I promise.

can’t we all just hold hands and suck each other off? well i hope that at least, the fanatics of every religion get shafted in the ass by their own creators.

torrents/usenet/emule GOGOOGOGOG

You’ve probably all seen it all but after finally getting around to it, I am thoroughly impressed.

more to come later when i cbfed!
btw, I do really love my Mum, really.

I know I have.

Many a time. I’ve used practically every brand of keyboard around, I think I even prefer the apple Ibook keyboards compared to the monstrosity im typing on right now. Lets hope the stores are open and I can purchase one today that doesn’t put the home/end keys right near the backspace and enter key. Looks like it was blatantly made for a laptop.

keybarder

FUCKING SMASHIES ARE A COMING.

ps. Richard Lewis did not coin that phrase. Well, I’m presuming so.

yer youu hard me.

After seeing a few brain doctors in Melbourne since 2003, I’ve finally found a doctor here in Thailand who seems to have given me the most accurate and correct diagnosis. Mind you, most of you probably are imagining a Dr from the Voodoo Jungles with a machete and a bonehead necklace operating on me in a bathtub; but to my surprise, this was nothing short of being completely false.

Long story short, I’ve been diagnosed with all kinds of mental conditions, every doctor in Melbourne has always been pushing me onto another crazier or ‘more qualified’ doctor; or they result in using fake-care tactics where they just seem to give you loads of drugs to slow your brain down. This has become managable to some degree, usually resulting in me cracking the shits once a month at nothing, and then taking out all my rage onto something. So, sick of these Western based asshole doctors I’ve dealt with; Chalky suggested taking me to a doctor here in Bangkok, Thailand.

Wow, This hospital was extremely nice, and looked like the sort of place I would want to be DOA. Never have I seen an medical care facility like this one, that was so clean, had decent looking nurses, and had ESPN and HBO playing in all areas. Hell, I think I even recall seeing a dude delivering KFC to some sick patient. The only downside, they could use some English classes and I could definitely do with some Thai classes.

Today’s diagnosis however, had to be the best and most simple remedy to my situation. He called it, Uncontrollable impulsive behaviour.

Chalky and I laughed our fucking arses off hard in the seat when we told us that. Hmm, maybe this could explain why I used to break so many keyboards in an uncontrollable impulsive rage at lans!? Still, after doing a bit of wiki reading its become apparent that this does actually exist, albeit under the name: Intermittent explosive disorder. What does this mean? Don’t piss me off or I might uncontrollably and impulsively stab at you with an 40″ LCD in my hands.

The great thing about this doctor compared to the others was that he told me to just accept the anger as a byproduct of myself, and to live through it, and try not to go crazy.

Best advice yet.