... and the ping pong ball is your oyster, apparently.
After spending a night in Battambang. (Translates as Disappearing Stick.. Magic stick helps raise a humble cow herder to kingship, then the stick vanishes when he needs it most and the king gets it in the neck. Moral of the story "Don't trust Magic Sticks") we made our way to to the border of Cambodia and Thailand. Oh, how I love ridiculous bureaucracy and paperwork. I love even more GirlClumsy's and my steadfast refusal to jump the queue even though the tour guide, a local Cambodian named Pheap (Pee-ip), urged us to move ahead past others. I think queueing is genetically encoded into the anglo-saxon genome.
Finally we arrived in Bangkok. Venice of the East. Grimey city of 11 million. Many many tuk-tuks (taxi motorcycles that try to take you to shops you dont want to go to) and many many people desperate to get me to the dreaded ping pong show.
Now, I am as red blooded as the next man but I really have no interest in this sort of melarkey. One of the eager men that wanted me to follow him to pleasures both genital and sport related was so confused that I didnt want to go. He kept following me asking again again "You want Ping Pong Show?" The more I rebuffed him the the more confused and eager he became. Thinking I might believe it to be a boring ping pong match and not a young lady showing her mastery of genital hydraulics he started miming the actions from the show and gleefully yelling "Ping-Pong.. banana.. COKE BOTTLE!" ... Oh, the hilarity. I was approached so many times in the first evening I am worried I must look like "One of those Ping Pong Guys (tm)" brrrr.
Had a good look at the Grand Palace in the centre of the city (Very Cambodian in style.. I'm just saying that to piss the Thai off. Thailand was originally a Cambodian province that broke away about 800 years ago. For the rest of my life intend to point at things that look thai-ish and say "Cambodian?".. and then duck) and the Reclining Buddha statue (46m long, 15 high, gold plated from head to foot) at the WatPho temple. Biiiig Buddha.. smiling in that calm way that seemed to say to me "Hey Atheist, I could crush you like a bug. I won't... but I could".
GC and I are off to the Tiger Temple tomorrow and then off to the River Kwai for some more dark tourism.
The fun never stops!
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4 comments:
Red blooded?
I always picked you for more a 'thick viscous ichor' myself.
Oh, don't you love the phrase "Genital hydraulics"
Of course the only way to get rid of these guys is to say:
"Ping pong balls? Coke Bottles? Pish lad in my country they have upgraded to Soccer balls already. When you folk get to car tyres give me a call..
Regards
The Ancient (and non-hydraulic) Man
"One of the those ping pong guys" *snigger*
I once accidentally a ping pong ball.
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