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The Original O'l Farts Club.

SubGirl

SubGirl

Well-known member
Premium user
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420club
jokerman said:
Your puppies are beautius!
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Thank you, I love them. Arlo is a giant teddy bear always under my feet but trouble finds him sometimes when he’s not under my feet. Yesterday decided to shred the carpet in our music room, today caught him thinking about that rocking chair leg and how much fun it would be to chew. The cat box is a whole nuther story even tho its very hard to get to, he manages to squeeze in there somehow when nobody’s looking then wonders why there is no lap dog game. 😂 but I still love him and he can’t help it, he’s not as smart as Maryjane.
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Unca Walt

Unca Walt

Well-known member
420club
Gypsy Nirvana said:
Here is the original version - I think that you missed the link between Crete and Bangkok - then on to Hong-Kong - @Unca Walt

Yes - I'm pretty sure that many of us here have a few or more stories - about the times we have smuggled some form of cannabis or contraband or both - from one country to another in the past - I sure do - and with this thread I will have to dig deep into my often fractured memory - to recount them - Hmmm - now where to start?

Ahh I know - let me take you all way back to Hong Kong - in the early 1980's - where I found myself - after being hired as a 'Minder' (close protection security guy) by a Californian property developer named John Crooks in Crete - the Mediterranean island - I ended up in Hong Kong via Thailand a few months later - almost broke financially - and kinda desperate - because of a scene in Bangkok which I will elaborate on later -

Being almost broke in Thailand - my last $100 bill went on an economy flight from Bangkok to Hong Kong - where I hoped to find some work - to make some money to survive on - and arriving at Kai Tak airport on Kowloon - I checked what funds I had - and I was down to just $40 u.s.d. - which was all I had to my name at that time - so neccesity being the Mother of invention - this Gypsy had to come up with some sort of financial plan ASAP! - After spending $10 on a taxi from the airport to the cheapest place to stay that could be found according to my 'S.E.Asia on a Shoestring' guide book - There I was at The Travellers Hostel hiring a dormitary bunk-bed space on the 16th floor of Chung King Mansions on Nathan Road Kowloon - just across the water from Hong Kong island - on the Chinese mainland - but still within the then British colony of Hong Kong - The hostel was cheap - just 30 Hong Kong Dollars per 24 hours - and there was then 7HK$ to one U.S.D - so in total after changing funds I had around 200 HK$ to my name - less than a weeks rent at the hostel - if I did not eat - or spend any money on buses - taxi's - or ferries - drugs or hookers - wondering how I was gonna get out of this financial hole - and back on my feet again - with some real money security in my pocket again - there was a definate sense of urgency - and in these sort of curcumstances - my best bet was to talk to as many people as possible - in the hope of finding some quick way to afford the costs to survive - which were to come -

The flight I had taken from Bangkok to Hong Kong had arrived very early in the morning around 2 am - and by the time I had got thru the airport - into a taxi - and arrived/checked in to the hostel in was around 4 am - but I was buzzed with the excitement of arriving in a place I had never been to before - and felt wide awake - after catching an hour or two's sleep on the plane - and filling my belly with as much food as I could get from a very pretty Asian air hostess - who gave me double the in flight meal - at my request - there was no grumbling/hungry stomach - yet - but there was no one awake in the hostel to talk to either - they were all asleep - other than a very disgruntled looking Chinese female receptionist night-shift worker - who did not have the vibe that she was interested in any sort of conversation - beyond checking me in - so after looking at the hostel notice board - to no avail - I went for a wander - and tried to get in the elevator/lift - that I had got up to the 16th floor on earlier - but it seemed to have broken down - because it never came - even after waiting for 15 minutes - constantly pressing the dirty button - so I took the filthy stairs down - aiming to get out onto the street - where I had seen some early morning activity - with many people hanging out and moving around - as I had got out of the taxi earlier -

This stairway was like something out of a distopian nightmare - the landings and stairwell full of open trash bags - broken glass -discarded construction materials and decomposing shit which stunk to high heaven - with many big fat rats and cockroaches scurrying thru it all - mosquitos and bloated looking fat flies buzzing around - some areas were a tiny bit cleaner than others - but overall - the whole downward stair journey - was absolutely disgusting - and I tried to be carefull not to touch or step on anything suspect - that could make me slip - get me injured or sick as I decended gradually and cautiously - towards the ground floor - even the lighting was out on some floors of the stairwell - so I had to navigate by the light of my trusty Zippo lighter at times - listening to the constant hum and clanging of multiple air conditioning units - which pumped stagnant and very humid air out into the hot and muggy stairwell - from the many small businesses - restaurants and guest houses - on many different floors - along the way down - often I could smell spicy curry like food odours combined with the ever present stench of sewage - YUCK!

Suddenly - around the 5th floor - the sickening stench was permiated with something very familiar to me - yes - oh my gawd! - I could smell the sweet smell of hashish - cannabis resin - mixed in with the other noxious odours - and since I had not been stoned for a day or two was keen to discover the source - so followed my nose - down to the 4th floor - where the very pleasant cannabis smell seemed to eminate from the slightly ajar front door of The Lee Gardens Guest House - and as I got closer to the place the sound of music flooded out into the stairwell - getting a bit louder and louder still as I aproached - this music was also something very familiar to me - it was the reggae soundtrack to a Jamaican film called 'Rockers' - playing the 2nd track of the album called 'Money Worries' - how bloody ironic! - so I sang along as it went into the 3rd track 'Police and Thieves' by Junior Murvin - standing there singing and sniffing and stalling by that front door of the guest house as the pink neon sign above the door spluttered slightly - slowly getting up the courage to venture inside - beyond the door -

Ya - I had to go inside - so I did - slowly but surely - singing 'Stepp'in Razor' - and just inside the door could see another slightly ajar door to my left hand side - where plumes of sweet smoke eminated from - and visible to me was a very dark black man - bare chested - with big long dreadlocks - sitting crossed legged on a bed - with a big hash press in front of him and a boom box cassete player by his side -toking on a huge chillum - and as my eyes took in this crazy sight - his eyes met mine - and we both smiled - 'Hey mon - you sing'in ma music - come in an sit for a while - and tell me your story' he said - greeting me - with a Jamaican like accent - with a very positive vibe - waving the big chillum around as he gestulated the welcome with his left hand - then passing the chillum to me - as I happily sat on the chair next to the bed he sat on - taking some huge lugs from it - shaping my hands around it - in the right way - since I was well versed in how to smoke on the 'ting' - and soon - I was stoned to the bone - without even introducing myself - in a kind of happy trance like state - 'I'm Toni from Trinidad' he said as we shook hands - ' and you are?'



- to be continued -
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Unca Walt

Unca Walt

Well-known member
420club
Gypsy Nirvana said:
Yeah - looks tidier - but doesn't seem to flow in the way - it was originally written - but maybe that's some sorta unconcious bias on my behalf? - since I wrote the original slightly differently - Hmmmm - takes a while to sink in -
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Thass OK.

The difference is this:

In your mind, the words flow easily because the concepts as written are your actual memories -- and they are alive in a way, and in the story as you read it. So the story flows. Without a break.
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That above is absolutely what you should write if you wish to always remember it well.

But it is difficult for anyone to read a twenty-line paragraph with no punctuation except dashes used in multiple ways. The reader zones out.

There is nothing wrong with the manuscript at all, if it is to be a memoir written only for yourself. <-- Fact. Your descriptions are very good art. I could picture the stairway in more senses than eyes. I could see the slightly open door and feel your hesitation -- stranger in a strange land. <-- That is art.

I'll just say it: Your punctuation is abysmal. Your writing is superb. Your storyline is horrible. No fair bringing something up and saying, "Come back later and find out." <-- The reader will forget or miss that, or not make any connection whatsoever to what was going the farg on in Greece... Were you a bouncer? Local heavy?

Why and how did you leave Greece essentially broke? And why, of all the fargin places on earth a white dude could wind up where human souls go to die, MANILA ??? Why not England? Ireland? Canuckistan? USA? Jamaica? They all speak English.

We really want to know. From you, we know it would be really entertaining... Providing you either read it aloud or somebody edits it.

I'd recommend you write it all, then look up a local editor. Their rates would be worth it.

But no matter what -- keep writing.


DEEP EDIT SAMPLE FROM AN EDITOR: The beautiful stewardess who gave you seconds. Any editor at all would put your pingles to the the keyboard and demand the scene to be written out. What did she look like? What was she wearing that made her so alluring? Scent? Footwear? What did she bring you to eat? What words were spoken? What did the islands look like from your seat? Get us in the airplane... as a start.
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You may think I am pulling the long bow, here. Lemme tell you about the merciless bastage that edited/mentored me.

The opening scene/words in my novel, "The Cadet -- The Adventures of a New World Pioneer in the 17th Century" had the title character being introduced as a child. He is told by a local guard to go get him some ale.

Yeah. Right. My brutal editor wrote:

"They did not serve ale in the Duchy of Oldenberg in 1615. Find out what they sold. And find out the cost."

A mere five fargin days research, and the first chapter was retitled to "Cider and Sunshine". The cider cost two Munchen coppers. And in an attempt to impress my evil editor-mentor, I added that the tankards that went outside were the cruder wooden type rather than the leathern ones.

That got me off of PAGE fargin ONE. The novel is that historically accurate from page 1 to page 462.
 
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