BOZKASHI!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RadiKal!

Howdy Yall and Feliz Navidads to todos mis amigos out there. 

If you are all the sudden wondering, hey this isn't the site I was looking for.  Check your browser bud, and you accidentally typed in "Bozkashi", and not the Japanese stuff you were probably looking for. No worries and no judgements here, feel free to read along and join the fun, we are all friends.

Anyhow back to where I was, ah yes, a Feliz Navidad and Festive Kwanzaa to all.  So while I am figuring out what sort of fun can be had this Xmas in K-Town, not much really, all the expat amigos are gone along with the high school bonanzas, and pretty sure that not too many folks celebrate it here.  Kindofa bummer, cuz all you gotta do is make a list and some dude basically brings you tons of free shit. Everybody loves free shit right.  Maybe I will let a couple of my close friends here in on the secret.  Maybe......... 

Well in lieu of hitting up some holiday fiestas and eggnogging it up, like yall, I chose rather to partake in some sporting events here in lovely K-Town.  Well actually in the hills outside of K-Town, down a couple muddy roads and past like a billion military checkpoints.  FYI if anyone is looking for some free massages, just give me a ringle and we can roll past every checkpoint in the city and you will be totally satisfied and more. Military hands all over yourself.  FYI if you hate airport security, don't give me a ringle and just wait for me to return, cuz you will be literally Man-Handled with authority here.

Sorry sidetracked again, now back to our original programming, sports.  Buzkashi! Know what that is?  If you guessed one of the craziest sports ever invented then you are correct.  If you guessed horses biting horses, horses biting dudes, dudes biting horses, and one dead calf, then you also get a point as well.  If you didn't guess either, don't worry you are still my friend, maybe.......  Just kidding, I heart you.

Basically this is a "sport" where teams of 12 dudes and twelve horsies, square off and try to drag a dead headless calf down a muddy field around a flag, 1 point, then back down the muddy field to the circle where the dead critter would started, 2 points.  Easy Peezy.  Except for the fact that the dead critter is real fucking heavy, like a hundred plus pounds, and there are dudes on horsies chasing you all over the goddam place.  PETA would have a fucking field day with sport to say the least. Like everybody would be covered in paint.   

The nuances of this sport are still a bit beyond me, but from what I saw, you got big horsies for blocking and lil itty bitty horsies for picking up the dead critter and running for glory.  But because the critter is heavy, one cannot really pick it up clean and easy, but rather pick it up, ride for 20 yards, then usually it falls.  Once it falls, then back to square one, which is both teams crowding around trying to regain the prize. This man on horse action actually takes the longest as the high points are few and far between, and is when one would really kill for a beer sitting in the stands.  See Below.

                                                        Yup.  That's Pretty Much it.........

Some fun parts here are when someone and his steed decides to get wile-n-out, rear up and charge through the crowd with authority.  This gets a bit hairy, and probably pretty fucking dangerous.  Although the match I saw was pretty tame, from what I hear, its pretty common to lose a toe or a life in this game, especially in the provinces, where dudes are pretty badass, ok more like real badass.   Like always I snapped some photos for your viewing pleasure.

Bitey Practice

This Was The Team I Was Rootin For! K-Town Broncos!

Even Kiddos Heart Horsies!

Even Hired Guns Heart Horsies!

K-Town

Lets Get Ready to rUmBLe!

Look at the Dude in Front in Red.  He Got It!

Just a Couple of Generals

This Dude Dominated

Half Time Entertainment

No day of Buzkashi would be complete without a lil pageantry, and luckily we got to see some generals riding around, and then even lunch at Uncle Fahim's house(Marshal Mohammad Fahim, google him if you like, interesting shit). 

I know yall be ready to spend some Xmas with some loved ones, but thanks for listening.  Feliz Navidad to yall and to yall a good night. 

Besos

Lorli

Thriftin The Night Away

While sitting around this double Wednesday I started thinking about what doing get into a K-Town groove these last few weeks.  For starters, I have begun to partake in things which make me feel like I am a normal human and not just some dude living and working in a compound.   Fun filled events like making badass plates of nachos or sleeping in until noon on my day off have been a few of the easer tasks accomplished in my free time. Looking for good ole Amurican goods, like Dr Pepper, Reeses, Gatorades and whatever has fallen off a big rig in these parts at the Finest Supermarket also passes the time and fills the tummy.  One gem that I recently stumbled across was whole cans of Betty Crocker Fun Chip Frosting, which I proceeded to eat with a spoon, Wolfeyes Style, to the disgust of my Euro roomies. Boom!  Take that!

As I keep looking for things to make me feel like a cool kid I have discovered two things that I quite enjoy, 1. going to expat parties aka high school parties and B. Thrift Store Choppin aka Bazaaring like a boss.  I will take a look at each their entirety and give you a glimmer into what keeps a young buck like me feeling sane in probably one of the craziest places this side of the Bosporus.  

First, and only first because I have been to quite a few, are ex-pat fiestas.  Unlike what yall(and me too when I am there) do back home, go to the local watering hole, get some eats, have a beverage with friends, and chit chat the night away, we have a bit of a different scene here.   The best way to explain the scene here is to close your eyes real hard. Keep em closed, now think of high school.  Now think of how each glorious week, some kids parents would go out of town, in which most everyone would plan on going said kids house somewhere on Pierce St and try to have a "good" time before the SweetRidge PoPo brought their mustachioed visages and bad attitudes to the scene.  Pretty much the exact same here, almost, except for the  PoPo part( Sidebar there is a shitload of PoPo here with Mustaches and really shitty attitudes to boot, but they normally don't give hoot about an expat partay, different priorities I guess.)  Here are a few of the correlations between high school and expat fiestas :

Guest List- Gotta know the right folks to get into the Partay fo sho.   Sometimes I does Sometimes I doesn't but the best way to get into one of these suarays if you aint on the kewl kid list is to work on your upsidedown reading skills and find a name that hasn't been checked off, and go with that.  So far I have been Roya, Raja, Robert, and had a super time and no problems.  Usually you know people in there already so once you are in like Flynn its nothing but Fun tImes USA and an assortment of imbibables. See point 2

Imbibables- In a land of "illegal" fun,  and yes pretty much any kind of fun you can think of is definitely illegal, one needs to get clever.  But really not too clever, maybe just clever enough to know the right folks I guess.  As a local "Fixer" told my roommate regarding a Visa problem, "This is Afghanistan.  You can get anything done."  And boom there it is, because this is the land of rules, and exceptions to each and everyone of them, finding some illegal fun at an expat party is only a phone call and a bunch of $$$$.  Since Team Coldistan is relatively much poorer than most expats, we usually just show up and start showing the nerds how to get down with their high salary purchased hooch(If Tonkel comes out, watch out expat nerds you are in for a show.  Ps Mom Tonkel is not me, or an alter ego of me, but rather a wiley scotsman at his best).  Usually these parties involve having a cocktail of warm whatever and then warm mixer of definitely the wrong flavor, because just like in high school, one cannot directly walk into a liquor store and pick up whatever essentials for a party are needed.  That would be too easy and nothing here is that easy, trust me.  Ever sip on Barcadi Apple and Eggnog, probably not since high school, case in point. 

SOS(Same Ole S%!*)- As the expat land of Kabool is pretty small, now matter which expat fiesta you show up at, invite or no, you are bound to run into the same ole folks each week.  There are slight variences, such as coming and going partays, but really, and keeping in the theme here, it pretty much just like high school.  Same people, different week, same stuff.  Even to make it a bit more coolio high school harmony, is the expat dating scene, which is all too vaguely familiar from my younger days.  Everybody dating everybody.  As for me, well I have yet to find a lucky lady to get locked into a closet with and play 7 minutes in heaven........


Lets switch gears a moment now.  We have delved into what some folks, myself included, do to have a bit of fun and a bit of a release from the wackiness of K-Town.  Now let me ramble out my new found passion here, BAZZZAAARRRRIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Three Words: Fucking Awes Ome!

If you are reading this then you obviously know that one of my all time favorite things, besides nachos, is hitting up a thrift store or two in the hopes of finding some gems for myself and whomever whatever additional gems might fit.  Ever hit of a thrift store and not find any gems?  Happens all the time, thats part of the funocity of it all, the game of used pants chance.  Now ever wonder, "Hey how come there aint no gems here today?  I mean did some hipster posse roll through and pick out all of the rad/weird shit for their ironic party coming up?" Nope, that didn't happen.  I will tell you what did happen, it came here( and by here I mean just about any devleoping/thirdworld/global south/enter name of what white people call places that don't have white people living in them).  And I actually also mean K-Town. 

So all these tremendous gems all end up on the back of a donkey cart, with and without the donkey, in Bazar ride to the Pharcyde free for all.  Ever think the GoodWill is ripping you off charging $1 for a pair of used tidey-whiteys? Guess what they are, cuz factoring all the shipping costs and middle-manning the whole thing my guess is that they are like a Buffalo Nickel round these parts(Side Bar- Mom I haven't been actually buying used undies, I have plenty, it just makes for a fun example)(Extra Sidebar- Zephram Jasper, as my Official Law Dawg can you advise me on whether or not I know what I am talking about in these sidebars?  I really like using them.) 

Moving on. 

Bazaars are rad.  I have only been to a few thus far with Tonkel, DJ Fraukes, and Abdul keepin his watchful eye on us, safety first yall.  I have yet to visit the infamous el guapo of a Bazaar, Bush Bazaar, which will most likely be a post all on its lonesome one day.  So far it has been just good ole fashioned rummaging through the randomness and also a fun place to see all sorts of people for the reals.  Being an expat means there are definite places that are a no-go, but here is fun for the whole family place that females are actually allowed to go to.  I mean seeing a lady, unburquad, out in public is like seeing Jay Cutler not throw an interception and pout like a baby, doesn't happen.  If you are super lucky, your Xmas presents will be Bazaar based, and if you are really lucky I just might wash em for you before they arrive under your tree.  Maybe(Uncle Deist, if you are real lucky I will stumble across the Vikings Sweater I saw last week again, but this time, have the Taxi stop for some needed negotiatin on your behalf).

Time for more amateur photos:

Beautiful K-Town

Big City Livin

Check the 1000 Year Old Wall Back There

Ready to Get Bazaar?

Hey Lady Save Me A Piece O' That Corn!

Any Yall A Size 7?

Shoppin Alley

Stabbin Alley

Tonkel and DJ Fraukes

Where's Abdul? 

1st Floor Children's Clothing, 2nd Floor, Well Lets Not Go to the 2nd Floor

Dude in the Sweatpants and Sport Coat Killin It!

I Am Pretty Confused By This One

Yum.  You Should See The Bag O'Brains Which I Spared From Your Ojos!

Nuff Said

Well off to explore my snowy city.  


Besos.

Rory

Car Wars! Nothing But Car Wars, If they Should Bar Wars Let these these Car Wars Stay!

Howdy Yall. Been a few weeks since we had our last fireside chat, and I apologize for that, won't happen again honest subasian continent person.  This week we have a lovely topic to discuss, plus a side bar of some expat stories that will boggle the mind and dazzle your earholes(Side Bar Monsieur Blakey also has some amazing Afghan stories from his work compadre, but I don't want to steal his thunder, so next time you are enjoying a Mimosa and some Green Chile with the lad be prepared to laugh your pantalones off). 

Lets get down to brass tacks here, and get after this weeks agenda.  Car Wars!  Now we all love how much I love motos.  Here in K-Town they exist, but nearly in the same fashion as my previous home.  The main method of transport here are cars, mainly two varieties to be exact; Toyota Corollas and anything that you can strap guns to, dudes, and dudes with guns.  Don't be alarmed, the dudes with guns especially the biggest ones are mostly NATO and my and your friends.  The rest are Afghan security amigos who really don't give a fuck about anyone, but the dude who is paying them to keep him extra safe, which means lil ole Rory aint even on their radar, which is good.  What is bad about these wanna be Road Warriors is that both sides don'e like having fotos tooked of them, and potentially will get all Master Blaster on ya if you approach them closely.  So I don't and they don't, problem solved.  But it also means that I don't really have a lot of photogenic proof that these dudes exist.  Lo Siento. 

This Guy Means Bizniz

Although I do have some proof of the other set of Road Warriors, the Afghan Corolla, and the specialness that is them.  One reason they are extra special is that literally every car on the road, besides the ones that have firepower, are Corollas.   If anyone is looking to break into the import/export biz, I suggest buying shitty used Corollas in Adams County and selling them here for plenty of bucks, cuz that is the only car a legit Afghan will drive.  And when I say drive, I don't really mean drive in the sense you and I drive, but rather a more sedentary style of sitting in traffic for hours on end as K-Town's roads are torn up creating endless traffic jams.  It doesn't help that this also might be the capital for the most selfish ridiculous driving I have ever witnessed.  In like the "My lanes not going fast enough, well fuck oncoming traffic, lets just try and make a few more, cuz wherever I gotta go it definitely cannot wait an extra 5 minutes?" Which then causes even more traffic fuck ups because the third lane then makes folks on the oncoming lanes get all wild and and eventually you have an Afghan stand off.  Cars and their drivers just looking at each other, with no where to go.  

What does one do when this happens, well I am not sure about everyone else, but I love to check out what is my second most favorite thing in K-Town, Car Art!  Side bar, if you don't want to get into the import/export biz, you could easily make some loot putting decals on Corollas.  These car decals and just general adornments are pretty sweet, and range from the absolutely absurd to the ridiculously absolutely insanely absurd, see below for photogenic proof.  I have been able to chronicle a few of these bad boys while to and fro my jobby job, and not nearly enough of them, but I think I have a few goodies in here.   My personal favorites are those with classic misspelt wordages on them.  Extra Side Bar, if you want to make some money here and not import/export or apply Corolla decals, you can just get into the car decal spell check biz and make a fortune as well. 

And So Does This Guy

Key Word Being Intalugent

That Stuff Will Kill Ya Bro

No Clue On This But I Like It

Not Sure Exactly How Much Horse Power One Needs to Best a Ferrari, But..........

Already On It Big Guy

Probably Something About Being Awesome Is My Guess

That Is A Well Manicured Pitch

Nuff Said

This Baby Is Literally "On Board"

Hope you enjoyed them photos of Car Art, I know I did.  Now time for some expat stories.  Everybody gots em here, and now you do too.  Yayyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Extra Extra Extra Side Bar, these stories are word of mouth so who knows if they are actually true, but in my heart of hearts and with the shit I have seen in just about two months here in K-Town, I believe them to be verdad, or at least one of them, as it is from a pretty credible source. 

Story uno begins at a construction site somewhere in Afghanistan, not sure exactly where, but that really doesn't matter, just the fact that it is a construction site. Now we are all used to seeing the Port-O-Potty at said sites, and here they also provide defacto banos for their workers.  Sounds good enough right and pretty normal.  Well here comes the twist. Wait for it.....Wait for it......  Ok here it is.  Seems that for some reason (and I literally have no fucking clue why, like fucking literally no clue) that there was a lack of or inability to use toilet paper at this job site.   Not sure why as I said, but that is besides the point.  Now lets take a guess on what was used.  Take a few seconds here, I got time..................... Ok got an answer?  Well guess what, Wrong.  Wanna know how I know cuz nobody would guess Rocks and Stones as a possible way of wiping ones culito.   But yup, that what was going down here.   So much so, that the toilets were getting clogged due to this action.  Wanna know how they prevented this from occurring again once the management found out.  Chiles, rubbed all over the stones.   Gives a new meaning to the phrase "hot hole."  Fucking love it. 

Story dos begins begins in the countryside, which I have yet to visit, yet from all accounts outside of K-Town and other large cities here most if and or all bets are off out that away.  Well as this story goes l am told, there was the a dude who probably was a bit lonely, how do I surmise that, just read the next sentence silly.  I surmise it cuz the next part of the story is this, he gets caught fucking a sheep.  Being the country, just about every major decision is deliberated by Village Elders, and this this case there is a whole lot of deliberation going on.  Not for what you think though, yes, not whether or not the act is right or wrong and deserves punishment, nope.  That would be to simple, and just sound like a story from Fort Collins( I still STRONGLY dislike CSU to this day FYI).  The village elders in this case were not arguing over the rightness or wrongness, but rather arguing about the concept that this man should probably be married  to the sheep if he is going to have intercourse with it.  It is a very religious country yall, and this plays a role in every aspect of life, including sheep fornication.  But this story gets even better, and a tad more complex.  They weren't just arguing about marriage, but also the price of the dowry that needs to be paid, as this particular sheep didn't actually belong to the gentleman that fancied her, and no bride in this country gets married in this country without a sale price(probably gonna be some rambling on that at some point in the near future).  Not sure about the actual sale price, but lets just assume all parties lived happily every after.  WoW!

Yup.  That just happened, your mind literally probably just fell out of your skull. 

I will leave you on that note, as I gotta get some rest all this bloggin has made me sleepy. 

Here is a video for your viewing pleasure in my absence.
http://videosift.com/video/Bill-Murray-as-the-lounge-singer-Nick-Winters-from-SNL?loadcomm=1

XOXXOXOX

Heru(one of my new Afghan names), AKA Rory

Next Time, Guest Blogging from the Land Down Under!  Mexico!  Viva Los Cumpleanos de Ned and Jesse D Efe style. 

The Art of Time Travel

Here in K-Town I have discovered a phenomenal phenomenon, Time Travel.   Although I have only been here for approximately one month, during this time I have begun noticing a rift in the time warp continuum  that only appears to happen here in this magical land.  It is a complicated process that involves 1 Wormhole and a lil theory called the Double Wednesday also known as the Bacterian Camel hypothesis, which all together create the ability to travel through time.

Don't believe me, too bad.  This topic has been thuroughly vetted by myself and my roommate who actually has a PHD in Theoretical Particle Physics over a few glasses of "non" alcoholic beverages, because that would be illegal here if there was for some reason smuggled bottle of Jim Beam that made its way all the way from the Istanbul duty free shop, and lordy knows I have the utmost regard for the local police and their upstanding ways.  As I was saying, through these vigorous debates we have concluded that we actually time travel, not once but actually twice each week while living the dream here in K-Town.  

This is an Astrophysisisist.

How do we time travel exactly?  Does it involve a wacky phone booth and George Carlin? Not really, but that would be pretty fucking excellent and most triumphant! Does it involve any sort of hallucinogenics, in which I am not really time traveling but really stoned? Definitely not, this place has not quite figured out how to have a classy weed dispensary on every corner like say Denver or Los Angeles.  

I will tell yall what it does involve, quantum physics and a hefty amount of free time on our hands sitting around the casa to develop something soooooo complex.  I will start by explaining the Double Wednesday Theory. Here, the week begins on Saturday which is kinda like Monday, which in tern makes Sunday, Tuesday, and so on and so forth if you follow this logic.  Is that time travel?  Well not really, but stay with me friends.   As this wacky week unfolds, around Monday aka K-Town Wednesday things get a bit fishy.  In a normal week, Wednesday or Humpday is the mid week fiesta that says, "Hey, everything is gonna be ok, soon enough it will Thursday, which is kinda like baby friday, and then the TGIF comes right at ya and it nothin but margaritas, nachos, and a high school football team masquerading as the University of Colorado the next afternoon" Yet here in K-Town, Monday, our Wednesday actually happens twice.  Since everyone here works six days a week, you actually get a Double Wednesday (My Monday and Tuesday), or Double Humpday( get the Camel reference now...... wakka wakka).   Kinda like a two day long Groundhod Day each week, where you get all jazzed up for the day that signifies that the work week is half over, only to live it all over again the next day. Frown Face. 

If you are not convinced of this time travel logic, well here is more irrefutable evidence, discovered by my roomies and myself, via the Paj Shambey WormHole (That be what we call Thursday here, Paj Chambay).  Since you are already up on our logic on which of my days corresponds to which of your days, we can bypass splaining it all over again and get down to brass tacks, the Wormhole. 

Everyone familiar with TGIF?  Good, it will make it a whole lot easier. 

So K-Town we have ourselves TAIP or Thank Allah Its Paj Shambey, as Thursday really becomes the big night on the town.  Now with all the ex-patriots living here, not talking bout Teddy Bruschi yall, but the folks like me and others who get paid heaps of dough to come up with ideas of how to make Afghanistan a bit less Afghanistany(all with good intentions mind you, even if at times misguided, but we will get after that another time). For the most part these folks are from western nations and enjoy themselves  good ole hootanany each and every TGIF or TAIP in our case.  Being a nation where the all-mighty dollar gets you anything you need, with the right amount of loot and right connections there are plenty ways to get after a western style TAIP. 

This is Pretty Much What Paj Shambey Looks and Feels Like. 

Speakeasy rooms of really nice restaurants or just old fashioned partay's are the usually affairs for these expats to get their crunk on.  Here is where the time travel happens.  Each and every Paj Shambay ex-pats get their groove on and awaken with a touch of a hangover on Friday morning, which you think would be like our Saturday here.  Wrong,  instead of figuring out what is next on the docket of illegal hooch and somewhat legal debauchery, it has automatically become Sunday(really Friday here) morning with the beginning of the work week one long couch nap away.   The TAIP Wormhole warps you from Friday night all the way to Sunday morning with Saturday being a distant memory from days of yore in the motherland.  

No Sabado Gigante, no college football, no Blakey Mimosa Breakfasts.  No Saturday.  Just a lazy Sunday day with nothing open round town, people going to mosque, and a whole bunch of Sunday chores like washing spiderman underoos for the soon to ensue week.  Double Frown Face. 

So with all this new information at your disposal, just know that I plan to live vicariously though your own Saturdays and single Wednesdays during my time in K-Town. If you have time, maybe send me a wacky photo of yourself enjoying a Blakey Mimosa, that would be nice. 

Well here is some proof of my time traveling here. 

VayaConDoritos.
xoxoxo
me

Here is a Sk8board That Time Traveled to K-Town From a Much More Racist Past.

This Dude has Time Traveled from 1862 to Modern Day K-Town

Artsy Pic

Old School Mosque on a Hill by Worky Work

Afghan Premier League Championship! Front Row Seats for the Rumble in the Rubble! Mazar V Herat.

This Ball Time Traveled into the Back of the Net to get Mazar Back in the Mix. 

MailBag!!!

Well, it has been over a week since my departure from los estados unidos, and my guess is that I should start being comfortable with my new digs and locale. The answer is yes and sure why not.   Moving to a weird place, getting used to weird things, eating weird bits, and meeting real awesome poeple(I bet ya thought I was gonna say weird there, well too bad, the people here are pretty great so far, although I do have a few fashion tips for the hombres......) becomes a bit normal pretty much after the first time is my guess, I am only two weeks deep so far, but will keep you updated through the worldwideweb.

My new spot has dos lovely perros, which will not be eaten(frown face, bur probably for the best as I kinda enjoy their company, and they keep the badmen away), a tv full of movies which are then chalk full of Indian commercials repeated 2-3 times each commercial break, and one badass Targah.  What is a Targah you ask?  Well a Targah is our housdude, who pretty much keeps it real 24-7, and whose job is to also keep to badguys away while wearing a stylish purple jacket.  Gotta have a gate opened, Targah got it.  Gotta have some house stuff taken care of, Targah got it.  What about having an fun conversation in half english and half dari, where nobody really gets the answer but all seem to enjoy the process nonetheless, Targah definitely got that. One thing Targah don't got is a beer less then $10 bucks out here.  This is a Targah.

Most importantly I have been getting accustomed to almost everyone thinking that I am an Official Afghan, and not the rug, a person.  From the folks at work, to my new good friend Generalisimo Aghbar, to almost everyone on the streets when I happen to cruise out for one of these bad boys(see below), I appear to have the traits of one of the locals, excluding a gnarly unibrow, which is good I guess.  I get into some trouble as soon as I open my mouth and can't say a lick of Dari, but my long term goal is to play the part of a deaf-mute Afghan which should suffice for the next six months.  I mean in a place where literacy is extremely low, the chances of running into the one Afghan who can sign Dari is pretty slim, so I think I'm gonna roll with it.

This is How Kabul Does Burgers

Now after being absent from the states for a few weeks, many people have asked me many questions about just about everywhich thing you can imagine.  To date I have received thousands of requests in ole uncle mugsy's mailbag, wowza, of which I can only answer a select few.  Here are a few of the gems in this weeks mailbag:  


 Dear Rory,

I know you like eating critters of all shapes and forms, so what sort of critters do they serve in Kabul?  Do any of these critters make your tum tum go uh oh?

Regards,
Concerned in Constantinople

Thank for you letter Concerned, and for an answer yes, there are some fantastic critters to eat here.  Mostly in the form of rice and bread.  Yup, experimental eating at its finest.  I would say 90% of the meals I have had, excluding the above goodness and some expat pizza, is a combination of rice with flavor bits, maybe a topping and then bread to eat it with.  This will also be what I eat 90% of the remaining time here.  My guess is that folks here are carb-loading for the big game next weekend, which always actually happens to be the weekend after that. 


Dear Wory,

I heard you were planning to grow your hair weary weary wong while you are in Afghanistan. 
Is that twue?

From,
Lil Timmy
 

Well Lil Timmy, I had hoped to become Afghan's first official top of the head hairlord, lordy knows they got the bottom half of the head covered quite well.  And it always pleases Karen so much to see me wielding a mane, that I really wanted to.   But due to my keen chameleon skills of looking like a local, I am gonna opt for the high and tight look, all while rocking a well chiseled chinstrap beard and Salwar Kameez.  Razzle Dazzle!  If you don't know what a Salwar Kameez is, just look at my man Targah and you get the jist. This should have me fitting right in and not calling too much attention to my infidel ways. 

Fittin Right In

Rory,

How do you travel round the mighty city of Kabul? Are you still a moto madman or have you upgraded to full time car travel?

Cheers,
Cra Cra in Cambodia


Cra Cra, you so, well........Cra Cra.   That is an excellent question, and one of the most popular queries in the mailbag this week.  To be honest, we have two motos that I have to learn how to ride betterer, as they ain't no Bodian machines, but full on motos which have a clutch and all that jazz.  But until that time, we usually roll the mean streets in our hired taxi's or our human people mover the Toyota Vanagan.  Now this city isn't all that big, but the traffic here makes Los Angeles freeways look like Disneyland and Cambodian crazy streets like Lakeside.  It can often take 1 hora plus to get to or from work, which really cuts into my bread and rice time.  But it does give one time to check out how many fucking bullet holes have riddled this place over the last few decades.  Thank goodness it is much safer now, but still makes one think about the shit folks have been through here.

Traffic Jammeroo, if You Look Real Hard with Your Eyeholes, There are Some Definite Bullet Hole Action in the Background. 

That is just about it for this weeks mailbag, maybe there will be some more next week, or I will go with some other thoughtful ideas like, Whats under that burqua? or  Blame it on the Taliban, Waka Waka!  or Who know's.  My guess is that in the next week or so I will see something interesting to ramble about, like the road accident which occurred this morning between a horse-buggy and a bicycle.  Pretty funny, also pretty sure the horse dented it's front fender but all seemed ok, hence the funnyness. 

Whelp until next time.

Welcome to K-Town

More K-Town

Yup Even More K-Town

One Cookie and One Rickey. Keepin the Badman at Bay

Adios Amigos and Vaya con Doritos.