HI.

Howdy, Hi there.  How have you been? You look good, have you been working out? New shirt, it looks good on you, and I really like what you have done with your hair.  It looks great, and really brings out your eyes. 

Many moons since we pulled out the puterbox and and just chatted, ya know like talked about us. Well I am sorry for that, I really am, its my fault, not yours.  Really is, honest.  I know this is a two way street, and without me looking out for your needs, well its just me being selfish. 

I really wasn't looking at any other blogs or anything, ok, well maybe a few, but really it was just looking, nothing more I promise.  I didn't subscribe to any, and usually used a private browser and Norton Antivirus (tm) just to be safe.  Never know where some of these other blogs have been, and honestly better safe than sorry. 

I just, ya know, was in a weird place, ya know. Like I was just needing some time to get my thoughts together and see if you were the blog that I wanted to be with.  I mean like foreverever.  With this time away I realized that a blogs are never perfect, but that's what I like about you.  You might not have all these fancy pop ups or Huuuuuuge Bannners. You are plain, simple, kinda funny, a bit awkward, and there is beauty that I find in that. Your not perfect, but you are mine.   I heart you, I have always hearted you, and if you will, heart you for a much longer time. 

Phewwwww, now that I have that off my chest lets get down to biznizzzzzz.  Lets see, its about 6am, jetlag working like a champ, and starting the day off right with news of Uncle Pey Peys next victory, always a treat.  I am in my new home away from home away from home Mazar-e-Sharif, or Mes for short. 

Lets try and pronounce it together, Say it with me now: M...........................es, M......................es, M.................es, M...............es, M......es, M........es, M....es, M..es,
Mes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy nom nom nom nom nom, cooooooooookies.  Ok there was my cookie monster reference for today. 

For those of you not in the know, Mes is in the norf of the AFG, a akwardly sketchy 45 minute flight over the Hindu Kush, or an even awkwardly 8-15 hour drive through badman land.  I will opt for the flight yall, it comes with an awkward sammich and a free Mountain Dew, take that United Airlines! 45 minutes and free snacks, boom.  What you got. 

Mes, is a sleepy town, with less Kabooms than Kabuuul, and where I will be spending my time for the next lil bit.  Although I am just getting to know this lovely city, I wanted to show you around my new locale that I be chillen with.  New digs, New dawgs.

No Ricky and Cookie here, but we do have a couple of young guns here learning the ropes on how to keep the bad men away.  Behold Ice(AKA Iceman in my book) and Julie(AKA Merlin in my book).  These are just a couple youngins trying to protect the skies with their deft and daring moves. They're dangerous, and I like it.

Pishak The Destroyer.  Honestly I really don't like gatos, and until this lil one stops biting my toes and jumping all up on my shit, he/she/it will not be called by a real name, only Pishak, which means gato in Dari.

Horsies. Yes Horsies!  Although these are not our own horsies, they do live right behind our casa and wake me up bright and early.  Not sure their names yet, but since they are buskashi horsies I assume there is a Bitrey among them just waiting to get his choppers working for the upcoming matches.

Casablanca.  Yes this is the palace in which I reside.  No LandCrusher, but the 4 Runner does a legit job. 

My Garden, where I find my inner self amongst the roses or just lounge on the bedy type thing in the back.  *actually haven't really spent any time there, only enough to take this photo.  

Mes. No Instgramy filters here, just some plain old high desert haze.

Things Green Eyes is gonna miss while in the Mes:

Fun.
Nachos.
Babes.
Fun.
Broncos.
Phils.

That is pretty much about what I got so far in this week.  Since I made a lot of promises to be a betterer bloggerer this time round you best belee dat I am already scheming on some newness already.

Three Words: Mos Eisly Cantina.  Just you wait. 

XOXo
Me 

NO PHOTOS PLEASE!

Whaaaaaaats Up!  Howdy folks its been many moons since I last got my Angela Lansbury on hit the ole keyboard/pad/shiny things.  Sorry for that, I feel that I have let myself down, and more importantly you all.  Won't happen again, I will kinda promise that to you right now. 

How's things? Yeah, I know I miss you too, no no, you keep going.  Uh huh, Uh huh,  well that sounds nice.  Really you don't say. Wow that is interesting.  I know, right, don't get me started on her......  Oh, enough about you, you want to hear about me.

Well, I am back in the Bodia keeping as fresh and clean as possible, given my current sweaty conditions.  Almost forgot the fun amount of skin ailements and tumrumbs that come along with living life on the equator or close enough to it.  Almost being the key word here.  Almost. 

I have been keeping busy, mostly catching up with some old amigos, meetin some new ones, and remembering how to drive a moto properly.  More importantly I have been scheming on a pretty fun and interctaive blog post yall.  It was gonna be great, real great, maybe the best one I have ever concocted.  Another key word here, was. 

You see I had been snapping photos of everything that you could buy on this side of the planet for a $1, 1 Buck, 4 Quarters, 10 Dimes, 20 Nickles, and really who the fuck cares about 100 Pennies, honestly that's just annoying.  And it wasn't just gonna be about you get this 1 thingy for one dollar.  You know me better than that, it was gonna be all sorts of highfalutin math equations in which I would grab my Bob Barker skinny microphone, harass a couple females, and give you items like beer, ice coffee with condensed milk( by the way have you ever seen anybody catch type-2 diabeetez in just under four months, nope, well just wait I am on my way cuz I can easilly crush about 3-12 a day and am well on my way), pork and rice, petrol, bags of green drink, cups of green drink, babies(you think Angie paid more than a buck each for all thems, come on get real), moto rides, ice cubes, fried bugs, and whathaveyou.  Then you all would need to come up with the best combination for me to spend that dollar, each day of the week for like 2 days or something like that. Had yet to work out the finer points, besides I had the best part, photos of all these wonderous things.  Remember our key word?  Ok. yes, the second key word.  Sorry didn't clarify that before.  Was.  

So Uncle Roary, why didn't this fun for the whole family event never hit the blogosphere?  Cuz I got my phonebox slash picture machine jacked by a Vietnamese temptress, aka Srey Chow Vietnam( thats how you say Vietnamese Temptress in Khmer).  Long story shorter.  My roommate Lek Lek and I were waking home on the late late. We were a block or two from our hotel, when... Pow! Round the corner come a pack of female Vietnamese She-Devils, don't get em confused with the male Vietnamese She-Devils, which is an entirely different story.  These She-Devils looked normal and ordinary, but came in hard and started grabbing all on my goodies and not so goodies, asking if I wanted a "Massage" and I was like ewwwwww, cuz they were pretty sketchy looking( have you ever seen a Vietnamese She-Devil, not pretty, although the non she-devils are quite pleasant and smell nice) and I really didn't want a massage either, it was late and I was pretty ty ty.  Well after successfully(or so I thought) fending the wild pack of She-Devils off and another block or two, I noticed something. Akmean iPhone. Uncle Lorli had been hoodwinked :( 

While a few of these She-Devils had been grabbing at me like I was a piece of fruit-by-the-foot, another slyly stolt my phone.  The ole distracto move.  So anyways, after realizing it was gone, using my puter to call Amurica and the phone peeps, that its not me making all sorts calls to Hoi An and Hanoi, I realized my saddest moment, all my precious blog fotos "was" on that phone.  So its kinda like you lost your iPhone too. 

All is not lost kiddos, nosiree, we will just have to use our imaginatron's for future blogging purposes, until I get my shit together and find a new camera and or phonera out this way. 

Now before I go, I am going to get something off my chest, Bruce McCulluch style, with an Open Letter to Srey Chow Vietnam, cuz I know you gots the internet lady, its on my fucking phone: 


Dear Srey Chow Vietnam,

Don't pretend like you don't remember me, yeah me.  They guy in the pink shirt, blue pantalones, and blanco spaitchuns. The guy whose phone you and your pack of She-Devils stole.  What you think I didn't need that phone, like maybe my pants were too high, and I was just using it to weigh em down a lil?  Well no thats not the case, obviously you know that, why else would you steal it, its a high grade piece of future technology made by slave labor. 

It's got maps on there, which I used to navigate your city and mostly away from you and your She-Devils.  It also has a bunch of games on there too, some of which I had put a lot of effort into.  Like my Temple Run score, I know you are a thief, but honestly you gotta respect those numbers right.   I would prefer that you start a new character from the beginning on that one, as to not soil my good name with your obvious soon to be poor performance. 

Lets talk about tunes, you were lucky enough to steal a phone loaded chalk full with some really fun playlists, and maybe some new music that you are now really into.  When you tell your other hipster She-Devils, that you have been listening to the new Tame Impala album for months and waaaaaaay before them other She-Devils was all into it, stop for a moment and thank me, the guy whose phone you stolt.  You are fucking welcome.  

Picture capabilities are decent, I had fun with it, now I guess you will too.  You might be like whats with all these fotos on here, and I am like those are my memories biyatch, thanks for taking them too.  You see its not just a box of tungsten bits minced together to make it so you can talk to people, actually quite clearly halfway across the world, oh no.  There is a heart and soul in there, and it was mine.  And no its yours I guess.

Also, just in case you drop it while you are trying to jack some other dude just walkin home for some shut eye, or get caught in a rainstorm, of which you and I both know there are many, just thank the Otterbox case, newly purchased I might add, which will keep it cozy, safe, and dry.  Its blue too, which I think compliments the phone nicely, and will hopefully contrast with your evil red eyes. 

Now don't pretend like you ain't reading this, I know you have the internet, its on my fucking phone, and its already got the password for wifi to any Trung Nguyen coffee shop in Saigon.  My hope is that you are sitting in one of them cafes when you are reading this, and your Cafe Sua Da is only mediocre and possibly has some out of date condensed milk in it that gives you some tumrumbs fierce( I don't want you to die or anything, just some mild discomfort really). 

Well Srey Chow, I feel a bit better after venting, thanks for at least listening, I coulda put it on a podcast too, as you have that capability now too, obviously.  If we meet again I at least expect a hearty thank you, and a coupon for that free massage that you promised.

XOXO
Lorli

FILECARD: TJ

CODE NAME:
TARGAH JAN aka TJ
Security Badass

File Name: Abdul Rasul          SN: Classified

Primary Military Specialty: Mujahadeen, Skateistan Security Guard

Secondary Military Specialty: Taming Wild Beasts, Keeping it Real for the Really Reals

Birthplace: Jawzjan, Afghanistan                   

                                                                                    Grade: A+ Afghan Ninja
___________________________________________________________________________

Targah Jan honed his combat skills fighting for the Mujahadeen against the Talibs in the 1990's. Keepin his wits about him in the field and commanding a marauding northern militia and wielding the AK-47 like it was, well and AK-47.  TJ was also at one point captured by said Talibs, I think in Pakistan from the intel, and during his years being a captive actually began to teach his captors the Koran( just going out on a limb here, a faction of folks who blow up lil girls for going to school, probably can't read too gooder. Want some facts to back me up: literacy rate in the province of AFG runs under 34% according to the UN. Boom. There you go.).  Once he was free of the BadMen, he worked in Iran in construction, and I think later in Pakistan again, but this time as a Free Man.   He later went back to his roots of being a badass, working with Abdul's family as a Security Guard.  On his way to another job in Iran, Ole Targah  happened to get an interview with a bunch of white people with skateboards and well the rest is pretty much history. The man has been keepin the streets of K-Town safe for me and my homeys ever since.* 
____________________________________________________________________________

Qualified Expert: Growing a beard, starting fires( dude can start a fire with his eyes), making conversation, killing goats( promised to kill a goat for me if I ever come and visit him in Jawzjan), Ping Pong( dudes a natural from what I have been told), Golf( see ping pong), Crushing MTN Dew( 1 Dew Targa-strong like bull, 2 Dew well that's one Dew too many)
____________________________________________________________________________

"He's generally regarded as the primo-baddest dude of all the G.I. Joes.  When we need somebody to sneak up on a class A, major bad guy and pop a can of butt-kick on him, Targah is the man for the job.  The bad guy could be in a fortess on top of a sheer cliff, but that wouldn't bother ole Targah none! He'd just whip out his handy grapping hook missile use it to shimmy his way up the cliff face until he cornered the culprit, threw him down and took his name."**

"Most Folks will get mad on occasion or at least get irritable- not Targah. He thinks anger is a waste of time and energy.  Rage clouds his vision and pollutes his magic. Fury impairs judgement and makes you careless.  The results of anger are totally unacceptable to Targah.  He doesn't get angry..... he gets even."**

"What can you say about a good-guy who goes bump in the night? The man is the baddest dude in the valley. He scares pit bulls! He should wear a sign on his chest that says, 'Don't mess, PERIOD!' The bad guys would like to see him declared illegal under the Geneva Conventions.  On the other hand, he is kind to small animals....."**


* So this is pretty much all true shit, I aint lying yall. And when I say pretty much, I mean as stories told to me from folks like my amigo Abdul who have known Targah for many moons.  I can only imagine what type of other stuff he has gotten into over the years, and if I ever learned Dari or Uzbeki I just might find out.  This dude has been to hell and back and now lives a pretty cushy life chillen with my dawgs, Ricks and Cooks, getting his mosque on as he is a very pious man, and pretty much being one of the raddest dudes I have ever encountered in my years on this planet.  Nuff said.


**So these are actually from G.I. Joe but they were sooooo amazing that I had to steal them. The rest is pretty much factually truth serum. 


                                                         Here is the man in action.

New Digs! Check the Karzai Coat!

Movin Wood

YUP

Couple O'gentlemen in Purp

LOCKDOWN- CELLBLOCK T-5

Boom! That is the lovely sound KTown has been making this last week or so.   Its an interesting sound, and usually one that doesn't even wake me from my precious slumber in my quad blanketed bed early in the a.m. when most of the bombings occur round these parts. 

Recently things have gotten a bit more "security advisory" risky in KTown, which means 1 and only one thing.

LOCKDOWN!

CLANG!(thats my sound effect for a prison door closing on my normal life, frowny face)

Now for all you nervous nellies out there, which also includes me, when shit goes down in KTown it is usually directed at the "Man" or in this case "Afghan Man."  AKA the govment, making up all sorts of rules and laws, telling uncle Talib things like human rights are good, women should go to school, blah blah blah. Yet instead of having a sit in, making a couple fun signs and getting ones protest on, they opt for a bit more showey sign of dissent, doing their best Batman TV show impression. Bang! Pow! Kablooey! Holy Cow!

Luckily for yall and me, I do not fall into the normal line of targets for the badmen, and with my triple threat of guards Targah( FYEye is ex-Mujahadeen, ex-Badman prisoner and Current all around Badass! and will soon have a blog post all his own, just you wait) Ricky(ex-Street puppy turned Guard dog) and Cookie(don't let the name fool ya, this pup has probably bit enough peeps that she would have been put down years ago if hanging out in the burbs) I feel pretty safe for the most part.  In addition, we also have a entire security plan with escape routes, access to a literal extraction team when needed, and all sorts of failsafes.  Including my least favorite. Lockdown. 

What is lockdown exactly? Is it like playing hooky from school, like that time Big Ned took me kee, and lil ned to see Indy 3? Not quite I wish though, that was fun.  Is it more intense like an episode of Oz? Not quite, but I have been keeping cigarettes hidden in my room for bargaining purposes just in case......  Rather somewhere in between, I can watch Indy 3 thanks to my xmas care package and yes its kinda like a small prison at times, but with more respected shower spaces and less shivs, yet still plenty chillen in the yard with my dawgs. 

When we get a report of some actual bad shit or potential bad shit, like right now, the safest place to be is straight chillen on Taimani 5(my street! aka T-5 ya heard!) with my dawg, Targah, and dogs literally.  We have internets, hence my ability to chef up a tasty blog, stay current on work, and google my mind away as needed.  We have Indian satellite TV, which is superior, as well as a hard drive of mooovies, and my personal stash of dvds to pass the time. 

Most importantly and most currently we have some beer actually in the fridge, second time in just about 4 months guys, pretty big news.  Frozen batches of chicken green chile to smother any and everything possible, excluding Ricky and Cookie( yet if they new my past in Bodia, they might be a bit more skeered, as I probably wouldn't have too much of an issue eatin chile chee actual dogs).  All of these help to pass the time on T-5 during lockdown and keep me trying to feel a bit normalish and not like an inmate.  Lucky for me, my roomies are pretty rad and have yet to have a race war!

So when we get that call, text, or email that says, hey white folks, best to watch your step, you best believe my next step is to the kitchen to figure out what we are gonna have for breakfast cuz aint nobody driving cross town to worky work.  Gonna send some emails from the only place in the entire country one is allowed to wear lax shorts, mi casa. Yup, shorts are illegal and definitely a paddlin round here. 

Anywho, although I make a bit of jest of my current, lets be honest relatively fucked up situation, I hope and try to keep you all from worrying about me while living the dream here in KTown.  I do my best to keep safe, sound, and in one piece.  Honestly and truthfully, I like being me, I having yall as my friends and families, and the last thing I would like is for any badmen to cut that short.  That would suck.

Like always here are some candid photos of me and my lovely KTown at its best!

Just in Case the Triple Threat Fails. Double Threat Gun-Sword Should do Damage. Boom Right Back Atcha!

LockDown Option 1: Chilee Chee Friez. Gooder!

LockDown Option Dos: MRE's. Badder, but not too bad actually. 

Exactly Where is the Car Seat?

About Once Everyother Day Something Knocks My Brain Out My Skull.  Case in Point! This Dudes Bike Doubles as a Cotton Candy Machine!

When I Get Scared, I Usually Pray to This Guy!

Love Yall. Besos.

XOXO

Uncle Rory

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.