Tongued by Satan

[Vung Tau, 7/25/24]

Desperate for customers, DC Homestay must be recruiting them from insane asylums and methadone clinics. Last night, a woman tried to open my door then banged on it, even after I had screamed, “Go away!” She wasn’t a whore, just giddily under some influence. That’s why she ignored the table I had placed right outside my door. Since my phone had run out of minutes, I couldn’t call the owner, Trọng, to reeducate that punk. He’s about to emigrate to an American state he can’t even name. I’ll talk to Trọng or the receptionist, Thảo, face to face. To block access to my door’s handle, I’ll also place a chair on top of the table. I’m too tired to move. Plus, DC Homestay’s swimming pool is all mine each predawn. Floating in darkness, I’m the very last man on earth, with only crickets and sometimes a frog to celebrate my survival. Resigned, snails wait to be stepped on.

Elsewhere, thousands are punched, stabbed, shot or bombed unprovoked. Still, I niggle, because that’s how we are. To each, a gnat bite matters more than any distant tsunami, cyber attack or nuclear detonation. Seeing a man run over just feet away, we are annoyed by a hard-to-pick-at speck at the back of our mouth.

Despite last night’s trauma, I woke up relatively refreshed, so headed to Front Beach to contemplate Vietnamese versions of La Danza de los Viejitos, and Viejitas too. Bodies over 50 stretched or danced. From behind, two firm legs looked so young and sexy I was amazed to discover they belonged to a wrinkly and thoughtful face. Having seen plenty, she also wanted to be seen. Proudly, she aimed her buttocks at the sky. Four decades ago, I heard a Philly chick say, “If I had an ass like that, I’d never wear pants.”

Continuing my voyeurism, I went to a sidewalk café at the corner of Lê Lợi and Ba Cu. Yesterday, there was a terrible accident caused, it appeared, by a motorcyclist running a red light. Speeding, he slammed into an SUV, so must have broken a few bones, if not cracked his skull. Arriving just after, I saw his white helmet and blood, barely visible, on the asphalt. This morning, a mother and her four-year-old son on two bicycles ran another red light.

“Did you see that, miss?!” I said to the barista. “Yesterday, someone may have died there. That kid just now could have been hit!”

“She’s already teaching him to ignore red lights!”

Compared to Laos, Vietnamese are more impatient and more aggressive. Zulus are more martial than bushmen and even Bantus. Here are the top ten finishers at the 2024 International Mathematical Olympiad: USA, China, South Korea, India, Belarus, Singapore, UK, Hungary, Poland and Türkiye. So do I have a point? Zombie led multicultural USA is number one! USA! USA!

Here are the last names of team USA: Wang, Wan, Tang, Pothapragada, Zhang and Lefkowitz, so four Chinese, an Idian and a Jew. Team UK has Chui, Sturge, Griffiths, King, Zhao and Shah. The highest ranking African country is South Africa, at 54th. Their last names: Maree, Grant-Smith, Baleg, Xu, Kim and Williams.

Basketball, though, is another matter. Though hugely popular in China, that country of 1.4 billion failed to send a team to this year’s Olympics. Even with five players over 6 foot 10, its bball squad is only ranked 29th in the world! People who overthink don’t make good point guards or dance well. Without a decent court general, you ain’t going nowhere. As a hoop loving midget, I brooded over this matter. Arriving in the US in 1975, my first sport hero was Slick Watts. In high school, I did an oil painting of Gus Williams. I curse the day the Sonics traded away Dennis Johnson. Lenny Wilkens is the perfect man.

By now, everyone has heard about that gaudy fuck you two days ago at the Paris Olympics. Last week, I already wrote, “As for the opening ceremony, we’re likely to see another Satanic display. Taunting us gives them much pleasure.” More contemptuous than ever, they rewoke da Vinci’s Last Supper, so it had 17 freaks, mostly drag queens, plus a child. Jesus was a tattooed gorda crowned by a mitre with seven silvery sticks radiating from it. That’s her halo. Making the love sign with chubbiest fingers, this sad sow demurely smiled, just like the Mona Lisa. Later a red bearded naked man painted blue with his dick barely covered by polyester vine and fruits writhed on a table. Degeneracy and transgenderism ruled this sporting day. Out magazine, “We couldn’t be happier about this huge moment for drag performers breaking through the mainstream and showing their talents to the entire world. It’s what they deserve!” “This is France!” Macron proudly tweeted when it’s mercifully over.

With monsters like Biden, Trudeau, Macron, Scholz and van de Leyden as faces of the West, no wonder it’s last call. As I write this, Paris, the city of lights, has gone dark. Just as with last week’s railway breakdown, Russia and Iran will be blamed, but your enemies are deep inside your societies and brains. To be mocked and bankrupted are merely your hors-d’œuvre.

In 2017, I chanced upon a country fair in Florensac. It wasn’t just lovely, but magical, to watch old people dancing to a Lawrence Welkish band, and kids eating cotton candies and slide down inflatable slides. All their faces were serene and beautiful. Served in plastic cups, the wine was a bit sour, but hey, how many Euros did I pay?! The narrow lanes, stucco walls, centuries old bricks and wrought iron windows exuded a perhaps deceptive permanence. In the morning, baguette with just beurre was more than enough, though rabbit or duck terrine didn’t hurt. Hopefully those to come can also soak in that magnificence.

Some insulted citizens will refuse to watch the Olympics. Most will still tune in. Addicted to beamed bullshit, they’ll keep smearing it on their soiled souls. There’s nothing else to do.

[Vung Tau, 7/28/24]

[Vung Tau, 7/27/24]

[Cần Giờ, 7/20/24]

[Cần Giờ, 7/20/24]