What's the crack?

Me fucken ribs. That's what. Well, ok, not cracked but bruised and sore. Sparring a guy on Wednesday morning, when he lands a textbook shot on my ribs. Thought I was just winded but noticed the pain wasn't going away. I was only able to shallow breathe for the rest of the day. They've been getting steadily better ever since. Not really the sort of fight prep I was hoping for, two weeks out, but there we are.
Glad to hear that the are only bruised, so not the end of the world but it sure fucking felt like it on Wednesday. Had an EMT who trains at the gym examine them and he says that I can treat them with anti-inflammatorys and muscle relaxants, which I've been doing. Got them easily as they are over the counter here, much like everything else. Which leads me to an amusing story....
Years ago, when I used to work in a porno shop, I would occasionally get a customer in, asking me if there was any 'under-the-counter' stuff available. I would look around, and explain that he had in his hand a video of a transsexual dwarf, fellating an hermaphrodite while a bearded and pregnant teen, urinated blood on the lot of them. How much more under the counter does he need.
A tenuous link, I'll grant you, but it came back to me today and I wanted to share. Peace and Fucking. Believe.

End of week 4

Okay, I know I'm nearly a week late with this one. Trained very hard for week four. Diet went very well, though I was nearly out of my mind by Saturday. Went into town with the guys, to an all you can eat barbecue. Got stuck in to the beef and chicken, even had a bit of pork to wash it down. Damn, it felt good to be stuffed with so much meat, as any porn star will tell you. Went on to a cool bar afterward but I split before I gave in to to temptation and started drinking.
Had the tuc tuc try to rip me off on the way home as well, the little scumbag. I gave him the card with the gym address on it and after a while he goes'"yes, yes, I know this place" We then go for a scenic tour of Chiang Mai's Muay Thai arenas. I kept giving him the card and he kept repeating his earlier lie. So anyway, we finally get back to Sunpaliang where he goes, "150 baht. We had to go to all those other places. Very far." I pointed out that we didn't have to go anywhere but where I fucking told him. I gave him the 70 we had agreed on and started to walk off home. He jumped out of his death trap and started shouting in Thai then walked over to me and squared up. Now for those who don't know, the world of scumbags is dog eat dog, and this little terrier tried to stare down a rottweiler, who was in no mood for being ripped off. He went back to his tuc tuc and started shouting again, while I made good my escape. That brings the total to; Dave 1 Tuc Tucs "rip off united" 28
In other news we had a mad french guy join the gym. Not mad, in the quirky, takes a while to get to know him mad. Mad in the, don't give him scissors way. I can see him coming to blows with someone very soon, though he doesn't bother me. Mainly cause he hasn't tried to talk to me but so far this arrangement suits me perfectly.

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

Well, as some of you may have heard by now, I have decided to take a fight. It's on the 8th of March, and Damage will be in town to capture it on video for y'all. It's about four months ahead of schedule. Hopefully I don't make a total dick of myself.
Since I took the fight I'm having a bit of trouble getting to sleep. You know when your drifting off to sleep and you think your falling, and you bring your hands up to defend yourself and the resulting jerk wakes you up? Well, that's what I've been doing every night as I drift off, only I'm in the ring, and I'm countering moves with full battle cry. I'm very popular in my house, natch. If I don't get a handle on it soon I'll be up to the chemist, where seemingly everything's legal, and getting some sleepers.
Training is naturally stepped up, although it nearly wasn't. Tim (gym manager, also my buddy) put my name on the board for a fight, but he put up my Thai nick name. Pom pui. It means fat belly. The Thais have trouble with the 'V' sound and also the 'F' sound, as in fifty. So, on day one they all tried in vain to pronounce my name, and eventually settled on Pom Pui. Anyway, when they saw my name up there, they thought it was a joke. Then the head trainer asked me yesterday, with a smile on his face," Pom Pui is fighting soon?". And when I said yes, his expression changed to the most serious one I've ever seen. Picture a man who has just discovered that his family have just been kidnapped, like in an eighties revenge movie, or Jack Bauer. And just found out he has cancer. And his cancer has Aids. Bad aids. Like you'd get off a bummer. Yeah, now you've got it. This crazy man drilled the fuck out of me. Hard, intense stuff. Really pushing it. I mean, I know I have to do a lot of hard training, but I didn't think I'd have to do it all on the first night.
So, I'm dieting hard now, trying to get down to about 86kgs for the fight. I'm down to 94.3 today, and still 3 weeks out so I'm fairly confident I'll make it. I actually started dieting the day before I took the fight, but was still planning on having the odd burger or pizza at the weekend. Not every weekend, but it's still nice to know that you can, if you want. Anyway, that's all out the window now, and I'll be training 3 hours a session, two sessions a day, every day until the fight. But, I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be raping a burger and chips the day after my fight. Viking style. Or maybe like that movie with Jodie Foster and the pinball machine. The important thing is that I will be doing unspeakably vile sex acts to junk food. Also, taking the fight on the 8th means I can hang out with my buddy for the weekend. Fighters are allowed two days off after a fight and one or two before. So I fight on Thursday, take Friday and Saturday off and then it's Sunday. Gods day of rest. That's what I call myself now. God. Fitting don't you think?

Night Bazaar

Or should I say night bizarre. Only if I want to beat Richard Whitely for worst puns in a year. Still he's dead now, so I can take my time. Anyway, Chiang Mai's famous night bazaar is made up of stalls along every available inch of footpath over several city blocks. Stall after stall of exotic and fabulous trinkets and plenty of mundane crap too. But even the crap's not so bad, at the very least it makes the exotic stuff all the more special.
As I stood there for the first time, I felt like Marco Polo must have, as he discovered the silk road in China. Rows of exotic silks, in every conceivable colour. Strange and wonderful incenses filling my head with images of the mysterious orient. Wicked and evil weapons in racks that would make Tomás de Torquemada cringe. A bouquet of cheap, knock off watches at give away prices. Yep, exactly the same as Marco Polo. Well known for his discount Tag Heuer's he was, when he got back from China.
So, while I am filling my head with all sort of delusions of grandeur, a fairly well used hooker interrupts to talk to me about whatever the fuck hookers use as small talk. I said, "do you mind? I'm trying to have a poetic moment here!" She says, "Poet? Yes. Like Oscar Wilde. He fuck arses. You fuck my arse. 200 Baht" Well, god loves a tryer. Nah, I'm just kidding about the hooker.....she only wanted 100 baht.

End of week 3

Well, That's week three over. I can't believe I'm only out of Ireland 3 and half weeks. It feels like a lifetime already. I'm actually posting a day early today as tomorrow, the lads from the house and I are planning a trip into town and as many burgers as can be shovelled into a human being.
A bit up and down this week in terms of training. Had a hard day Wednesday, with the head guy, after putting me through my paces and nearly breaking me, did some inhuman things to my carcass. But in the nice way. Not that nice you mucky bastards. In the healing way. He walked up and down my back, making a sound not unlike squeezing a handful of rice crispies, bending me around like a retard playing with a stretch armstrong. Left me feeling like a man of 28 again. Still have that cut on the ball of my foot so no right kicks until today. Naturally my left kicks have been improving all week. Really looking forward to having a left kick like Mirko crocop. Look for his highlight reel on youtube if you're unfamiliar. Still pissed off with myself for missing the run Tuesday morning but I can make that up over the next year. Had to take this morning off. A combination of waking up with what I thought was a head cold, about four hours sleep and a sore pussy. Turned out to be blocked sinuses and an ear infection. Lucky me. I know that sounds sarcastic but it's not. An injury signifigant enough to miss a class but not enough that I'm actually out of action. Ideal.
Got a bike from one of the girls who was leaving so now I've transport. We also got a fridge, a television and a vcd player. Set for life. Totally self reliant now. Then the electricity went out. We never payed the bill. Nor did we ever receive the bill in the first place. Got the gym's Arthur Daley type to sort it out for us. Actually, his name is Noom. He's a gas dude. Anything you ask him for, from a puncture repair kit to an F-14, he says, "Hmmm, I can probably get second hand. I talk with you later". The next meeting he explains that it's on it's way to the gym. Tops. All legal too. A bit more than he pays for it but a lot less than I'd be charged. We call it the Noom tax.
Found a fruit tree on my run the other day. Well, it's always been there but it's bearing fruit now. Tried one and nearly had my face melted off like the end of Raiders of the Lost Arc. So Thursdays lesson was what unripe fruit looks like.
Had a couple of savage wrestling sessions over the last couple of days. I grapple with a guy called Tim. One of the best Thai clinch guys I've ever met and resembling a strategically shaved gorilla. Between us we are nearly 200 kilos and when he throws me I am at the mercy of the laws of physics. (Pretty much everyone else can only move me a step or two) When we grapple the little kids run around the ring screaming. It's a lot like being Godzilla, I imagine, as I look at tiny terrified Asians, although I generally keep my racist stereotyping to myself.
I was delighted to see so many young South East Asians getting into the energy conservation buzz this week. Now they are not far enough along to be building recycling centres and things like that but at least they are making the effort. The most common form of this is for a young Asian to not bother sticking the lights on his moped on after it gets dark. They're doing their part....are you?
My final bit of news is I fed an elephant this week. No, that's not code for a fat chick, (thankfully they are outlawed in Thailand) an actual elephant. It costs about 50 cents for a bag of little veggie sticks that the elephant likes. So, I gave him the first one, which he didn't really get a good grip on and knocked out of my hand. Poor eejit I thought, not even able to feed itself, but when I held it up again he wrapped his trunk round my hand like a giant sandpapery anaconda and squeezed, then slide his trunk off like he was stripping bark. This freed the snack for him, which he promptly ate. This also hurt like a motherfucker. Naturally, I was a little reluctant to go through that again, but when all two tonnes of him stepped forward I held out another treat without a second thought. Like a certain frog eating country during the second world war, I instanly capitulated and gave everything I had to the massive jackbooted bully, hoping it would buy me enough time to scream the lords prayer a few times and repent my sins.
Th, th, th, th.... that's all folks.

D.G. phone home

Raaay! The internet cafe beside my house finally upgraded it's crappy line and let us in. For weeks we have been going up to the door and looking at 5 or 6 guys, bashing away on keyboards to be told, "sorry, closed". We thought they were just being racist, as there is a fair bit of that over here. People skipping you in the queue, cars ignoring you, (had to jump into a ditch on monday to avoid a smack of a car), shopkeepers triple their price etc. I had a long rant about all this to my new flatmate, a black guy from the states. I hope the irony wasn't lost on him.

Those who can, do...

Those who cant, teach. So, I've decided to teach. Nothing serious, certainly nothing that will interfere with training but enough to keep a few bucks coming in, so I can eat lots of chicken breast. The thing about teaching in Thailand is 99% of teachers are long-term sex tourists who never got any attention in their life and who've realised the only chance of getting laid is if they can stick around getting the rock star treatment, albeit as teachers. Getting to spend your days ordering about young Thai beauties in mini-skirted school uniforms, (even in college, these are still the uniforms) does have a certain amount of appeal, I'll admit but there's no point in letting them think that the tabloids probably add the prefix 'Vile sex beast' when they mention me, now, is there? . So, you can understand my reluctance to stick my flag in this camp. It's not the reason I came here.... but what a happy coincidence.