Today I visited the King's Palace. Pretty gnarly place. That dude has an enormous collection of gold encrusted mansions and emeralds and rubies and diamonds and towers and a huge army of litte Thai dudes who all know mui thai. One temple here that I was forbidden to take pictures of was probably the most obscenely deccadent structure I have ever entered since Versaille when I was a small child. Every where is sparkling with jewels numberless and a hundred hippies and monks and tourists from denmark bowing and paying homage to an emerald bhuda sitting high up in a massive chamber on top of a pile of gold like fricking an enlightened scrooge Mcduck. I entered a reclining valium mystrical bhuda pose there and the guards with machine guns woke me up. There's a sign that says don't point your feet at the bhuda so I sort of walked in sideways like a crab. Next I got an audience with the King having announced myself to be a Godking from the West. I cracked open a bottle of Soju I had saved from Korea and we talked politics and women. He told me in my next fight to swing more elbows and I told him to crack down on the lady-boys. After he passed out on his emerald throne I stole his ring, french kissed the siamese princess and rode away back to my cubicle cockroach hotel room on an elephant.
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2 comments:
Well... Did he like soju or what?
Sounds like a solid day.
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