First Beer of the Day 2:32pm

The Thai word for humid is choom or cheun.

In French it’s lourde or heavy.

Either way the days in Pattaya have exorcised a sweaty demon from my flesh. This loss of water weight has my neighbors and mia noi remarking that I look a little thinner.

Down to 85 kilos and a BMI of 25.7


The very bottom rank of fat and I owe it more to Nick Reiter’s departure to the UK than the warmer weather.

No more drinking at 3pm till 3am.

I feel like I’ve been deserted like an unwanted woman.

He feels the same way too, only he’s in fuckin’ England working a regular job for cunts.

“Sunday has arrived and finally a day off, I really am too old for this shit, there must be more to life than this, is this what I have lived 47 years for. It`s getting very dark and cold here, today is officially the end of British summer time, the clocks went back last night. The only time I go to the pub now is after work on fridays, and then I only have 2 or 3 because I am shit scared of the old bill and drink driving, lose my licence then no job at all.”.
Not heaven on earth but purgatory and what can he expect after investing all the money from the sale of his house in beer, sex, and golf.

The Victoria Cross for beer-drinking?

If it was up to me, I would have pinned the medal on his chest, but I’m a failurologist first-class. It’s my wife’s birthdayl and I drank drank my first beer of the day in less than one minute. 2:32pm-2:33pm. Damn, I was thristy. Even better I bought the beer with the recycling money from the trash collectors. How’s that for being green, Al Gore?


Where’s my Nobel Peace Prize?

Same closet as Nick’s Victoria Cross.

Second beer is taking its time asI listen to Serge Gainsbourg’s  MELODY NELSON.

Who played that bass?

Jean-Claude Vannier?

The producer?

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