I’m hanging out at Singapore’s number one visitor attraction. The airport. Last time we were here I ruminated on why it was the number one visitor attraction and came to the conclusion it was because Sing Sing sucks so hard everyone’s rushing to Changi to catch the first flight out. Either there or to the …
So it turns out there is a point when the ATM decides to say NO. Or in my case NO. NOW BACK THE HELL AWAY FROM THE TERMINAL, TURN AROUND AND GET OUT. Could be that withdrawing thousands of dollars worth of rupiah (which runs into the billions so high that I can’t even count …
For those of you who don’t know me so well, I use the word ‘dude’ quite a lot. I use it occasionally as a term of endearment as in ‘hey dude’ meaning ‘hello my friend’ but more often I use it in lieu of the words ‘for fuck’s sake’ I figure that by using the …
Today a lady called Bobbi hammered my hand, arm and neck with a chinese instrument of torture, involving six sharpened needles and a whole lotta pain. Now it looks like this. The day my arm stopped working (strained ligaments from all the atm withdrawals) my keyboard also stopped working. Universe trying to tell me something? …
RSI + broken keyboard = break for few days sorry on upside the drugs they prescribe here are GOOOOOOoooooood
It starts with a profiterole of happiness. And finishes like this. Food never made me cry before but food made me cry with happiness last night. We went to the only Michelin starred restaurant on the island for a slap up celebration. Once more sartorially I made a statement. This time with my red plastic …
Almost three years ago John told me that the future was full of outrageous potential (he wrote that in his wedding vows –ahhhhhh it’s like a Nicholas Spark’s movie). I believed him. But I never knew he meant this outrageous. I’m not sure even he envisaged a two book deal from Simon & Schuster. Thank …
The Balinese like to celebrate – no, not in the same way as John – by impersonating leather clad, long-haired rock stars – but by preparing ornate offerings of coconut, flowers, incense and rice, cooking up feasts and then spending up to three days at the temple before heading on down for a cock fight. …
If David Lynch and Tim Burton got together and decided to open a nightclub and then Lars Von Trier vomited in it, this would be it. Inside it is all filthy black walls, mirrors and chrome seating. It’s kind of like the Jazz Cafe in Camden. That simile only stretches so far. Not so many …
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