Lush Out and Go Home

Always suss - they could both be weeing in the pool for all I know

I will never leave and nobody can make me

Now, why didn't we just completely blow off Pancake and her bitch mob ( did I mention her accomplices were called "Gift" and "Boom") and come here first?  The word superior doesn't even come close to describing where we lushed out for 4 days and 3 nights.  Look, let's face it - if you're planning a couch-surfing-only-eat-bananas kind of a trip to Thailand, perhaps it's not for you.  But for anyone who wants to go somewhere special, this is the place.  You should visit Naka Island and stay in the resort here.  You owe it to yourselves.  I have a little more advice that can turn this treat from a luxury reserved for the loaded, into manageable.  Don't go in high season.  Also, contact the hotel directly to see if they have any special offers or can discount the rate even further.  Naka island is only a five minute boat trip from the Marina near Phuket airport.  It's so close, but it feels like you are absolute miles away.  And the best thing.  No day-trippers.   It is seclusion and privacy at it's finest.  The kids didn't even annoy me that much.  That's such a rare delight.  I am moved, and will continue to be so.  It's the first place we've ever stayed at where I've thought that we have to go back no matter what.  I wanted to become a permanent resident.

Always something interesting to find on a beach with washed up rubbish on it

Kids really need to learn how to self swing far far earlier

Although, as nice as it is, there's something almost a bit demented about how people love to go on holiday where they sit back and do jack shit and the workers wait on them hand and foot.  It's like a servant fantasy.  Admit  it people - wouldn't you slightly love a pack of servants?  Especially nice Thai ones.  They have a really pleasant skill of making you feel like they really like you, and love getting you things.  I'm sure they hate me.  They might give me the finger as I'm on my way out of the restaurant.  But never to the face.  Hatred is much easier to handle when it's a secret loathing, bubbling beneath the surface of warmth and caring, and being called "Madame".

The pool boys even did a balloon show for the girls

Unsure of the final result - could they be suss? I noticed a pool boy thrusting during the pumping up part and WTF is Cordi doing?  

reclaiming post takeover

All the other guests here were not in each other's faces either.  Everyone seemed to possess the skill of being around a bunch of strangers, yet truly feeling like they were alone.  I did notice however, on the final day, a few women lying back on their pool lounges and straining to concentrate on Fifty Shades of Grey.  This is because a newly arrived, religious Muslim family took over the main swimming pool.  And let's just say that they took no prisoners either.  It was not a peaceful takeover......  But while we're on the topic, I have more worthless opinions to share.  Namely, "that" book can get fucked.  It is pathetic, and anyone who likes it is pathetic.  I know many of my friends do, and to all of you reading this, I say this.  It's either Fifty Shades or me......Seeing as I just now called you pathetic, I have an inkling of who you might choose.  Let me instead, put it like this;  burn that load of crap tonight, or you're off the guest list.....And while I'm at it, burn your jeggings too.  For those of you who read 50 Shades of Lameness while wearing jeggings.  I have no words.  All hope is lost for you.

See - there is no right

Hahaha - I just wrote the stupidest book in the world and now I'm a billionaire

Anyway, back to The Family Takeover - The men were fighting with each other in between making loud phonecalls.  Their kids were going absolutely mental - somersaults, screaming, kicking balls, splashing other guests who were (until then), on the nod in the sun.  To say it shattered the tranquility is an understatement.  I was amazed how a small group of humans could cause such holiday carnage.  Though at least they weren't smoking and ashing in the pool.  That special trick is reserved for the Russians.  The mums were completely ignoring the entire debacle, even though they were one foot away.  Discipline did not seem to be a priority.  There was not one "shhhhhh" even.  All black robed ladies seemed to be texting - or maybe they were reading E. L James' pile of shit on mini Kindles.  I was also interested in their lengthy endurance under the beating midday sun.  Those black robes really are thick.  It seems a shame that black was selected as the colour of choice for the religious coverings.  Especially considering that many ultra religious countries are scalding hot.  Couldn't they have gone with white?  Baby pink perhaps?

Fetching

Less fetching, but cooler, definitely cooler

Such a poor choice of outfit.  Now imagine the dude on the right on his knees

I often wonder the same thing when I'm in Israel.  Why didn't the religious Jews select a cooler uniform? Couldn't one famous rabbi make a new interpretation of The Bible, where God desired safari suits to be worn?  Those black hats and coats in 40 degrees would be so uncomfortable.  I also sometimes think about the state of their pits.  But I try not to.  I really try not to.  I sweat it up in the nude in those conditions for heavens sake - not publicly of course.  Although, I was once in a ultra-religious area in Jerusalem in a t-shirt and skirt, and a passerby saw me, and actually dropped to the ground in horror, shielding his eyes from my hideous flesh.  And I was in a car! I may have been going slow and staring, but there was glass and metal between my arms and his eyes.   It's not like I flashed him my undies or anything.  That special trick was reserved for Japan after a few too many sakes a few years back.  My sister and I had just watched Borat for the first time, and were obsessed with undie flashing combined with "You will never get this, La la la la la".  It was widely tolerated by the Tokyo public.  They never tell you to stop doing anything in Japan.  For example, I once went to our local 24 hour supermarket at midnight and was running around with a trolley sweeping entire shelves of goods into a shopping trolley (as Chalky tried desperately to put them back), laughing hysterically (obviously I was on my way back from a debauched karaoke piss-up, not just taking the chance to casually unwind).  The workers stood at the door and bowed to me, while  simultaneously saying "Welcome to Our Shop".  I wonder if they recognised me as the respectable business women, who bought her nightly salmon in a shapeless grey suit and nerd glasses on her way home every evening.  It was hard to make eye-contact after that little incident.  Life can be later awkward when you live large as a drunken show-off.

Poindexter hits his new office

Get away from me with that abbreviation

But all good things must come to an end.  Especially when they are costing a mint.  It was back to Bangkok, and two days to shop and be made pretty, and then up up and away.......back to Oz for a touch of Christmas cheer.  Thailand has certainly embraced Christmas.  For a country of Buddists and Muslims they are certainly milking every last Ho Ho Ho out of the festive season.  I have never seen a instance of more tackily lit displays ever.  I went shopping in my favourite shopping centre - Siam Paragon.  They were currently in the midst of the LOL Promotion.  However, they translated this as Lucky Out Loud.  Whatever.  Everywhere I looked the LOL's flashed at me.  It was like a trip to hell.  A sparkly and bustling hell, full of tinsel covered reindeers, where "Santa Baby" sounded out from all the shops.  I used to hate "Santa Baby", but I actually like it now.  I decided to learn the words, and am happy to sing it on request.  My worst Christmas Carol when I was young was "I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus".  It completely disgusted and offended me.  I had the Patsy Biscoe Christmas album as well.  Hated it.  That blunt fringed bitch made it sound extra pervy too (Surely my mother wasn't responsible for this trauma??  I shall have to clear this up when I speak to her today).  I really loathed Patsy Biscoe. And Fat Cat - what an idiot.  Other hated children's shows were Mr Squiggle The Man From The Moon, and HR Pufnstuf - I think that was the most demented.  Definitely written by people taking heaps of drugs.  It always came on at the end of the Saturday morning cartoons.  Even though it was torture, you would sit through another ridiculous session of that moron Jimmy and his squeaky-voiced, stupid golden flute - Freddy.  I think it was because you didn't want to admit to yourself that the cartoons were over for another week. Or maybe it was stringing out the last half an hour of sitting round in your jarmies before your Mum made you unload the dishwasher or do other annoying weekend chores.  I still know all the words to the opening credits of that heinous program - my brain is filled with useless crap like that, no wonder no new stuff can be properly absorbed and I still can't work my phone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obxfuFrUTzg (don't do it to yourself)

I hate you so much

Is is mistake, or a "clever" twist on the forever annoying original?

We had a Thai babysitter so we could get out there and not have to drag the homos around (is it politically incorrect to call your children homos?).  She did ring me on a really bad connection while I was having my hair dried following yet another grey root purge.  This is all I heard "Ummmm I don't know what to do........Valentina............accident...........help.........".  I was like "WHAT???"  Then the line went dead and I couldn't call her back.  I rang Chalky who rang the hotel and got transferred to the room.  Luckily he rang me back pretty quickly.  It turned out that Valli had shat her pants on a chair in the hotel restaurant, and she wanted help finding where her clean clothes were.  What a relief.  You always feel a tad guilty when you dump them so you can go and get your hair done.  Even when they are screaming for the aquarium,  I"m like "Shove it brats, Mummy's getting a french pedicure"  (By the way, are french pedicures actually tacky??  I'm starting to suspect that's the case.  I'm disappointed though - I really like them.......).  I was, however, relieved that the one time Valli gets the squirts in public, I didn't have to deal with it.  I really couldn't have faced cleaning diarrhoea off one of the chairs we usually eat breakfast on either.  Thanks so much Mook for dealing with that for me.

Kob kun kaa for cleaning up my poo poo

But off we go on the final leg home.  Back to my my homeland, beloved Tassie.  Home to the poor cancer-faced Tassie Devils, pink eye potatoes, huon pine, leatherwood honey, birthplace of our Princess Mary and the best bogans in Australia.  I've missed you so much.

Tasmania Under Fire

Even slackers that don't do much, except type a bit of bullshit from time to time, need a holiday.  I'm not referring to myself here, it's just a general observation.  Actually, I do have a couple of updates, written before and after Christmas, ready and waiting.  But I can't post them.  It seems kind of stupid and insignificant, when so many of my family and friends have been affected, and/or know someone who has been affected, by the shocking fires that have ravaged my poor, dearest homeland of Tasmania.

I realise of course, that there is always tragedy happening somewhere around the globe, just as much as there is happiness and joy.  Hopefully there is considerably more happiness and joy than there is tragedy.  We just think there are more devastating world events than uplifting ones, because that's what the news portrays.  I think it is Rob Brezsny (astrologer/author/mystic poet/musician), who says that there should be news stations that are devoted entirely to reporting only good news.  It's an idea I have always thought could really go down well. For example, it could report on how many people were born in the world today, particularly any interesting births - like in the supermarket or something.  Journalists could travel to various world celebrations and festivals, and there could be lots of live footage of people laughing, and more of those stories where chipmunks go water-skiing.  I wonder if this "Good News" program would be successful, or whether people would just change the channel to see how many were killed in the latest plane crash in Bolivia.

It's always different when the tragedy in question directly affects you because it affects the people you love, and the places you know.  It's like during the recent (almost) war between Gaza and Israel.  I didn't want anybody to be hurt.  But it was Israel and the Israelis I cried for, because I know them.  In this regard, it is the Tasmanian's and Tasmania (whose terrible fate during the hottest day of the heatwave that swept southern Australia), that I mourn for now.  I left just 2 days before it all began, and I expect that when I come home on Wednesday, it will be to a blackened state.  Especially considering that the fires are still burning.

I am deeply and truly sorry for everybody who has lived through their worst fears.  All natural disasters are frightening of course, but there is something about an out-of-control bushfire that sends a shiver deep within.  They are so unpredictable, so lethal, and often come without warning.  Fire is completely and utterly terrifying.  It is why it is depicted as the landscape, which those of us unfortunately destined for hell will come across, once they leave this world.  Or so we are told.  There is also something else that is different about fires, in regard to other natural disasters.  That is, fires can be fought against.  So many people owe their lives and property to the scores of brave firefighters that risk everything.  Many do it as volunteers.  What an incredible character trait - a level of courage that exceeds anything that a lot of us could muster up.

I read just now, that there are a lot of firefighters who are stranded themselves.  There are also 100 people reported as missing.  And also, that there are little forgotten towns, like Murdunna, that are isolated, and have no information on the situation, due to essential services being cut off.  It is easy to forget what happens when you don't have running water, power, sewage drainage, news reports, telephones, fresh food and water (and there is no way to get it).  I experienced these things once (during Japan's tsunami in 2011), and it is disorienting, as well as being frightening.  You wonder how long it will go on for, and there is no way of finding this out.  You are trapped and you are vulnerable.  The days are long, and the nights are longer.  All you do is pray that luck is on your side, and you simply believe that everything will be ok, because that's all you can do.  I think it is a heartening and enduring human trait, that in the face of inconceivable disaster, people are optimistic about their chances, and positive about what they do have, not what they don't have.

There is a site on Facebook that is providing information to people, explaining how people can help, and the most needed donation items - http://www.facebook.com/pages/Tassie-Fires-We-Can-Help/265695153558391?ref=stream.
And of course, what would humanity do without the Red Cross - http://www.redcross.org.au/tasmanian-bushfires-appeal-2013.aspx

Tassie will get through this.  There is an incredibly strong community spirit, and an open and genuine sense of caring that is unique to this incredible place.  This support system - which exists in Tasmania as a whole, and then at a micro level amongst Tasmanian smaller communities - is something that cannot be destroyed, by anything.  In the face of devastation, Tasmanians are strong and resilient.  Just like our beautiful state itself.  I have always been proud to be Tasmanian, and I am more proud than ever right now.

Bless everyone and stay safe.