Thai is the mother tongue; English is the father.


Thailand is pragmatic, hot molten pragma oozing from the pores of poster girls and wanna-be models. A million pragmatists walk the streets tonight, looking for succor from some sucker, sympathy for assorted devils. Millions of women are waiting there to smother you, love you to death, kill you with kisses. They smother you with the black hole of ignorance, so you stab them with a prick of your aggression. I think that maybe I’m sexually attracted to ignorance; I guess that’s Nature’s way of getting even. It all balances out. They’re a throwback to an earlier time when men were men and women were women and the twain only met undercover. The fruits of this labor might not even know the push and pull of history that led to such a consequence. They might not even care.

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