18th February 2001

So I’m posting from the road, which is kind of sad when you think about it. I’m half a block from a monkey forest and instead of walking around outside, I’m locked in a little bamboo stall typing. Bali is wired, my friends. There’s an Internet cafe about every three feet. They know about the Backstreet Boys, Tommy Hilfiger, and those horrible bottled Starbucks drinks. Shoot me now.

Also, everything costs two bucks. Well, everything except for the four-foot-high wood carvings of masturbating monkeys, those are about $250. If only I had a bigger place.

[editor’s note] Fixed Mighty Girl’s link to Annie from yesterday if you’re interested.

While I’m away, you should read Little Yellow Different:

“On a tangeant, this whole Asian-chick-and-labor thing reminds me for that Tide commercial. You know which one I’m talking about, right?

(Japanese woman speaking to the camera, cut to shots of a white guy playing basketball and pagoda’s in the background. Cut to another shot of same white guy kicking back a beer while watching sumo wrestling.)
“You know, I love my husband. But when I moved to Japan for work it took a while for him to get used to his new surroundings. The clothes he bought in America are precious to him. That’s why I wash his clothes in Tide!”

Now, I’m not a militant Asian, by any means. But let me get this straight — Asian woman has a job overseas while her husband mills around the house drinking air-mailed Budweiser and watching sumo wrestling. And SHE STILL DOES HIS FUCKING LAUNDRY?! Oh, hell no. If I was her, I’d get his gaijin ass to the fucking laundromat and tell him to wash his own damn clothes. *breathes deep* Okay, I’m better now. Carry on…”

“So I’m talking with my girl, Belinda. My very attractive, very feminine female friend Belinda. And she’s yelling at me over Instant Messager.

“WHAT? What do you MEAN you’re borrowing a copy of Diablo II?! You have to get your own copy so you can register the key and play over battle.net.” I could almost see her roll her eyes and toss her hair as she types that. “And if you’re lucky, I’ll even let you on my team.”
This is fucking surreal. Just the other day she was talking about the outfit she bought at Banana Republic. “Really?” I stutter. “How strong is your character?”
“Level 65 Ice Sorceress. You?”
*cough* “Uhmm.. Level 18 Necromancer.”
“Ugh. I guess I could help you out. Did I mention I play Tekken Tag Tournament too? Get a Playstation 2 and I’ll kick your butt anytime. Anytime.

You know, it’s a damn shame I’m homosexual. Because I think I just met the hottest girl. Ever.”