Body language

A smile creeps at the corner of my mouth as I watch my friend sat on a stool across the bar. There are 3 reasonably attractive Cambodian girls sat on stools around him. He casually rolls his conversation across all three of them. Occasionally adjusting his seat. Gently pushing there legs apart with his persusive knees. Legs interlocking like sexual jigsaw pieces. They comunicate in a langage that never needed words. Everybody understands what's going on. Everybody understands what's going to happen, but no one will say it out load.

Sent from my iPod

cambo photo set 3

Cambo photo Power set

Tuk Tuk (a poem)

Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk? mate Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk? you wanna Tuk Tuk? mate Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk?Tuk Tuk?Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk? mate Tuk Tuk? Nice hair mate, you wanna Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk? you wanna shoot the big guns? Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk? smoke? Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk?Tuk Tuk?Tuk Tuk?Tuk Tuk?

Hello, you want Tuk Tuk?

Tuk Tuk?Tuk Tuk?

NO I DON'T WANT TUK TUK!

Moto?

Cambo photo set 2

Dave

Anyway I'm sat at the bar chatting to this welsh guy whose mosquito
bitten swollen pigs body of a foot had eventually started to reduce
it's swelling. He'd got to the point he could once again put weight on
it.

So he's examining my foot. His annalasis is that mine looks like it
may be at the begining of the same process his is coming back from.
Bad news.
"It all comes down to the climate," he explains. But the lack of sleep
don't help does it."
As I half verbalised my obligitory response to his retorical statement
my eyes met the gaze of a stranger.

A man stood alone at the end of the decking. Close to the edge of the
water at least 10 meters from the 9 other people in the room. Possibly
an American surfer type dude i thought. Based on his sholder lenght
straw like hair and the happiely suprised laid back Wooooooh expresion
on his face as he registered me reflecting his gaze.

Arrryh.
"oh yeah it don't half sting a bit don't it like." retorted my welsh
mate.
The Betterdeen that filled the dirty little cut on my foot didn't so
much sting as burn and ran through my toes and between the wooden
floor boards benieth me down into the once mighty lake upon which we
rested.

As I looked up the surfer man had gone but as I turned round he was
now stood besides me holding out the standard icebreaker peace
offering of marjiauna.
"hi, I'm Dave."
I said my own name and Dave nodded like he already knew it.
Dave went through the usually where have youn been/things done/boxes
ticked spheal and moved into talking about his own practice;
anthropology.
Not as it turns out the study of flowers or nature as my first 2
missed swings had suggested. Saving me the shame of a vocabulary
strike out Dave clarified it as the study of people. He's mainly into
individual case studies.

Lightbulb.
Right then I think to my self, Dave wants to study me.
As I smiled along to my own internal monolouge I hit Dave up with my
question of the day,
"do you know where I can get some anti-bac hand sanitiser gel?"
Dave seemed to think he might have some in his bag a dissapeared down
a corridor to find it. I turned back to the bar and my welsh mate.
"that guy's gone to get me some hand gel." I said.
"oh were you talking to someone? I wasn't paying attention like."
I'm like "yeah the American guy"
He's like "no I didn't see him"

About 45 minutes later Dave still hasn't come back so I ask our Khmer
host if he'd seen the Barang I'd been chatting to . He pointed at the
welsh guy. So I'm like "no the other Barang"
He's like "no only one"

Then it hit me. A guy that only I can see, who implies that he'd like
to study me and find out what makes me tick.
See I'm no psychiatrist but that sounds like the rantings of a
schizophrenic with delusions of grandure.
Humm I thought. Maybe I shouldn't mention Dave to anyone.

Next time I saw Dave it was 6 o'clock in the morning and me and my 2
room-mates had been awake talking loudly in our room for the last 5 hours.

Dave came to borrow a rizla. We let him in and he stayed for just long
enough to offer us Valium without it seeming like it was the reason he
came. We took him up on his offer and he left as we swallowed the blue
flowers.

Turns out Dave's not imaginary at all or at least if he is
then other people can imagine him too.

Sent from my iPod

They call us Barang!

"Forget that other world.
that's what I was told when we landed here.
"you're in there world now."
the word of the Khmer.

I've only recently landed on the khmer home world, as alien a place as
I've ever been.
A place full of confusing customs, bizarre symbles, limited resorces,
disturbing food and jaw-breaking language.

They call us Barang.
It litterally translates to mean Frenchman.
But they use it to mean forign.
The word didn't change, they use it to reference everything about us.
It could mean a person or people, (the plural of Barang is Barang).
But it also applies to our music, our food, our technology and our
languages.
Every think Barang is Barang.
Doesn't matter what country you are from here there is only Khmer or
Barang.

Out here the Barang are nieve, easerly tricked by the Khmer women's
high skirts and low standards. Eager to follow the smell of replica
perfume hungry for taste of psudo-guilt-free exploitation.
The Khmer let the Barang exploit them became they in turn exploit the
Barang.
Be it by simply increasing the price of any unmarked items or by more
extream measures involving seemingly free sex, family introductions,
unexpected domestic financial issues and extortion.

Out here they use a combinstion of both their own currency and
American dollars but they prefer the Barang money.
€1 is worth roughly 4,000 of their currency but most meals only cost
€2.
All though this is significantly different to my pre-launch
speculations it is still drastically cheaper than on our world.

When the Barang first arrive here they are weak. Both in mind and
body. Confused by the behavior of the Khmer, suspicious of their food,
inchanted by their woman, burnt by their atmosphere and punished by
their terrain.
The Khmer are strong, born out of great tragedy into desperate
poverty. Their bodies hardened by their environent. Charged by their
red sun.

They laugh at us Barang for our ignorance, and we bow politly and
appoligize with large hand guestiors.

They laugh at us when we try to speak their langage. Our Barang mouths
unable to comfortably reproduce their extended voul sounds.

But most of all they laugh at us for just being so Barang.
When we do something they don't understand like; ask for toilet paper
when you are going to the toilet or try to order a chip cob.

The khmer are a friendly and giving people who need to exploit the
Barang in order to survive on a world that's forgotten them.
The Barang exploit the Khmer purly in the persuit of pleasure and
devience.
Some Barang exploit more than others and some barang are less
exploited than others.
Still one thing is constantly true.
This new home of the Barang is completly fueled on exploitation.

Sent from my iPod

Eating a Betel

cambo photo set 1

Time difference

So here it is. Tonight was Saturday night its 2 o clock in the morning
right now I'm sat in a flat in London watching rocky iii. 5 hours in
the past I'm stood on stage at the Albany theatre in deptford
performing dogman and 8 hours in the future I'm checking in at
terminal 3 and getting ready for my one-way flight to Cambodia.
65 hours ago, rocky was about to fight buba clay for the first time..
Right now its 2 o'clock am in what I think is technically Wednesday. 41
hours ago I had to take my coat off as I walked out of phnom penh
international airport into the hottest morning air my lungs had ever
felt. I had 2 friends with me; grant and Sam. It was 9 am. 57 seven
hours before we meet outside terminal 3 heathrow it was also 9 am but
this time it was raining. 4 hours later it was my term to ask the
woman who hides behind the curtain half way down the plain for another
3 free whiskys. 15 minutes later it was Sam's turn. 30 minutes later
we sat eating airline food watching the cabin host explaining to an
irate man in front of us that there was no beef left. 30 seconds later
the host left the man having rejected all other options and settling
on no dinner at all. He spent the next 8 minutes sulking which
worsened at the point he looked back to see us giggling as grant and
Sam finished off there beef. 53 hours later I briefly pause from
righting this startled by a strangely beautiful sound I smile as i count
9 repetitions. 3 and a half hours ago my friend victor is telling me
about these geckos as we sit on the mezzanine in my oldest friend's
bar, in lakeside phnom penh. Sat upstairs victor and I watch the gecko
on the wall of nam's bar. victor is explaining about how the Khmer
people believe that if the gecko makes this strange noise more than 5
or 6 times then it's really lucky for all the people in the house. 3
and 3/4 hours later I've stopped thinking about the lizard as I angle
the fan towards me and away from Sam and grant's empty beds. 24 hours
ago they both slept in this room as I lay here unable to find away to
stop having a headache and start having a sleep. 17 and a half hours
before that the 3 of us are climbing into the back of a tuk tuk with
victor and nam who both live here now. 12 and a half years ago me and
victor meet for the first time on town hall square in leicester 12 and
a half years before that I meet nam for the first time. intake day for
first year infants at knighton fields primary school Leicester. 25
years later I'm again interrupted this time by grant who's come back
to the room for something he's forgotten. Someone is with him. 1
minute later I'm locking the door as he leaves. 26 and a half hours
ago grant and I bid nam and victor goodnight and walked back to see if
Sam was still asleep inside the room we'd padlocked him in. 36 hours
after that I'm playing pool with a guy called josh at the hostel grant
watches from the bar Sam didn't come home last night. 10 hours ago Sam
and grant part company at nam's bar. 38 hours before that me grant and
Sam are meeting josh for the first time. 30 minutes before that we
meet his mate dickhead. 8 hours later nam and I laugh as nam points at
the name dickhead in his slate book and points at josh's mate. 11
hours before we all laughed as we ride in the back of a tuk tuk to
the guesthouse nam and victor have arranged for us. 36 hours later we
eat pork and rice sat amongst Khmer people. 16 and a half hours
later I'm trying to buy my second 5 dollar ounce of weed in 3 days. 17
and a half years before me and nam smoke our first spliff. 15 years
later nam and victor leave for Cambodia. 30 months later I finish
writhing this and leave to find somewhere in phnom penh that has
wireless Internet. An hour earlier Sam returns with his new khmer
girlfriend. 23 hours after that I found my wireless connection.

Sent from my iPod

Multiple versions of the same thing

Smoking Blues

Now I'm sure that just like me you all are keen followers of weed related news stories,

and you may recently have read about the banning of "legal-highs" following a young girl dying after mixing "Legal-GhB" with copious amounts of alcohol, (the only drug you are allowed to kill yu self with).

Now obviously that girls death was tragic but according to what I've read it was the presence of alcohol in her system that pushed her over the edge and I don't see them banning that.

Anyway, we've all got opinions eh,

Still yesterday I got given this. (thanks Sam)

Fake/Legal weed.

Look at it.

You're probably thinking "Now I don't know much about weed but I'm pretty sure it's not meant tot have bits of blue in it."

And yu'd be right.

Not even Blue-Cheese has any blue in it so why's it in my Fake stuff eh?

So if you smoke a lot of weed, in fact lets not mollycoddle it; if you've got a cannabis dependency then I'm sure that at some point you've found yu self in the position of having to make a stalk-spliff, where you collect all yu stalks up and chop them into little bits and just hope that the final remnants of TCH on these stalks might act like a boiled chicken cadaver and create some kind of metaphorical weed-gravy placebo-high.

Hopefully tricking your subconscious mind into thinking you might be stoned.

Well this was less satisfying that that.

I think that the blue bits were possibly ink-stained wood. because it tasted a bit like those rainbow Rizla that one of yu mates order off the Internet when yu 14.

All in all I'm pretty sure smoking it did me more harm than good

Right, I'm Off.

So here it is in a nutshell,
Brasstacks.
On the 1st November 2009 I fly to Cambodia,
I have a one way ticket.
I plan to be gone for a wile.

Basically I turn 30 in February and I'm planning to have become a man by then.
To do this I'm planning on completing a list of "rights of passage'

This list includes things like,
learn to ride a motorbike,
get a tatoo
wrestle a midget
be publicly naked,
eat something I've killed,
Saved someone's life,
smuggle drugs across an international border,
convince a stranger that I have tourrettes
etc.

If you have any suggestions for things I can add to my list then feel free to suggest them,

Anyway The Story begins Cambodia 2nd November.
It lasts as long as the money does but apparently it only costs a few pounds a day to live out there.

So here's what I'm putting out there.
Donations.

The Buttons in the side heading of this blog

If you donate just 30pence every time you read this blog then I can buy one more meal in Cambodia.
Essentially what I'm saying is if you're my friend help me out and if you don't consider yourself my friend or more specifically if you don't like me, (I know you're out there), then look how cheep it is to keep me away.

I mean a 30p donation is a meal yeah

£1.50 is a bed for the night

but £60 (probably about what you'd pay an up-and-coming act for a 10 min spot) would keep me out of England for a month

thus gaurenteing that all you shit-brained promoters and psudo-high-brow wannabe industry fuck puppets can carry on yu mindless little watered-down championing of the average whilst continuing to suck on the swaggering balls of any new thing that rolls along just cos somebody who works for a magazine that only exists on the internet said that they were the next Lily Allen.

Might even be worth certain people getting together and putting in an Arts Council application see if yu can't get funding to keep me away from the scene on a semi-perminant basis eh.

Anyway feel free to donate as much as you like, If you don't donate fair enough that just means your indifferent to me and I'm surprised you read this far.
Idiot.

Look at this guy

Remember a wile ago I posted a video of a freerunner from Derby called Livewire
well this is his mate.

These lot are rudeboys.

The difference between cats and dogs.

So I'm talking to this guy about like crowd mentality, the dynamics of audience response and social conditioning and that,

and he's like,

"yeah it's like Pavlov's cat."

(I think he got it off Hugh Dennis on Mock the Week)

I'm like

"what yonna bout mate?

Pavlov didn't have a fucking cat that was Schrödinger,

and that's a theory and not an experiment,

and it ain't got fuck all to do with this anyway,

that's about putting a fucking hypothetical cat in a hypothetical box with a load of food laced with poison.

Then following that it's obviously about the inherent speculative possibilities for the cats health.

Where as "Pavlov's Dogs" is about getting some actual dogs in an actual room.."

anyway as I was saying this his iphone rang,

He answered it so I kicked him in the shins.

I think I'm gunna follow him about and kick him in the shins every time his phone rings.

Should only take something like a week and a half till I bring him physical pain with a one-ringer.

Roll Models

This is my older brother Raff

Because he's my older brother it means I was always supposed to look up to him.

That's pretty easy to do though

because He's tall

Like 6 foot 10 or Something.

once when I was about 13 and he was 17 I stamped on his groin wearing football boots, He had to have like 15 stitches in his nob.

Since then he's fathered 2 children

So there yu go.

He recently got a new motor bike.

It's the most powerful one available.

He also got the leather suit that goes with it.

Makes him look like a Marvel Super Hero,

If he was I'd like his name to simply be, BIG-MAN.

He didn't say where he was going when he left but he did say people were waiting and he needed to be there right now,

no time to waste.

I wouldn't be surprised if he was off to fight some crime with his friends

MY-MAN, NEX-MAN, UDDUR-MAN and The League of Extraordinary Genitals.

S.O.Bs

"Son of a bitch!"

Yeah you all know the expression.

Born of the American idiom this little beauty seems like it's part of your everyday life.

But let me ask you something,

have you ever actually said it?

and meant it?

Of course you haven't and that's simply because life isn't an American film rated PG13.

I mean if I was ever forced to invoke an Americanism to express my frustration with another human being then I'd chose "MotherFucker" any day of the week.

Still there's a certain power to the old S.O.B

and yu can't really say Motherfucker to people in shops when they don't have the right rizla.

So here's what I'm putting out there,

I'm switching,

give it ago yu self.

Next time yur in Gregsy's and the woman's giving it "we ain't got no stake bakes left, m'duck."

instead of getting caught up in the usual conversation about double negatives,

just drop it raw

"Son of a Bitch!"

check out how powerful it makes you feel, like Gary Busey

The first of many

Right,
this is the first of a line of new-style blogs.
Email posts.
Just set my device up to post directly to the blog.
Thus far I can't do anything about formatting so however this comes on screen is what its gunna be I'm afraid.
The reason I've done this isn't anything to do with lazyness its actually a matter of neccesetty.
All will become clear in the next few weeks.

Just seeing that it works

Sent from my iPod

back to scratch

So anyone who's a proper die hard follower of the old CompWeezy will remember the days of signing on.

Been a wile eh,

almost a real person for a bit there.

Although recently I've mainly been fulfilling my obligated time on stage/in school today I had to fulfill my obligated time in the Job centre.

once again they actually let me chose my own areas of potential work and once again I declined to change Dancer for Warehouse.

That day still hasn't quite come yet

Anyone that wants to come see me doing this for them selves is welcome to do so Dates are right there and it all kicks off bout 3.45ish depending on queues.

You might even get to see some other acts an all, when I went for my interview the other week I saw this guy in the foyer.

I think his claim had been denied cos he was saying that his legs wouldn't work until he got his money.

Security Guards had to physically carry him out and leave him in the street.

Cold eh

Different versions of the same thing

Balls

Keys