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[P]
The Vietnam Minsk Motorbiking for Monkey Wine War Journal: pt:1

By bankind in Culture
Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 12:30:13 PM EST
Tags: etc (all tags)
/etc

"So what do you want to do while in Vietnam,"
Richard had asked me, rather matter of factly, on the first day of work.
"Well I was thinking of going to Dien Bien Phu."
"I'd like to get out there too... And how do you plan on getting there?"
Now, I hadn't really thought about that...

It was always an option, but not the obvious one. When Stephen rolled up that first day on that classic blue Minsk . the fate was sealed. A nine-day circle from Hanoi to Dien Bien to Sapa and back to Hanoi. Roughly 1300km by Soviet designed two-stroke steeds. The monkey wine was just the only way we could explain it all.


Somewhere in Vietnam it exists, Monkeys sealed in alcohol bottles, to be drunk. They say it helps the penis, and everyone needs a lil' help with the penis. So if asked why, it was the wine, not the culture, not the roads, not the bikes, or rivers, or food, but we all needed a lil' penis extension that only the monkey spirits could provide.

As logical as it all sounds, when the biker babe Sumiko joined the gang — the foursome was created. So there it is, maybe it was all a silly idea, but you gotta be a bit stupid to have some fun, otherwise you'd never risk a leg, eye or penis to be thankful you still have. And there is the real excuse to get drunk and raise hell

Day one: Pain, Puke, Rock and Roll

The first day was as complicated as would be expected of such a trip. The planned departure at 6:00am seemed a good bet on how to beat the morning Hanoi traffic. We all were in desperate need of a quick departure from Hanoi. The first problem struck Mr. Richard, as I swung by his place, his carburettor was improperly sealed and leaked excessive gas. This is not good. I left Richard to his own fate as he trucked to the local Xe May shop (mechanic).

I met Stephen and Sumiko at Bac Ho's Mausoleum (uncle Ho Chi Minh)as the sun was rising and the streets were abnormally swamped with Viets doing exercises and whatever anyone would want to do at 6am when they should be asleep. Shortly Richard popped back with us, we saw the Viet Flag raised, saw the people stand attention to the anthem, got the starting line picture, and fled for the mountains.

As always, the road out of town was packed with Russian trucks, busses, tractors, and Honda dreams. What the hell they were doing at 6:30 am on the road, who knows? They're Hanoians, eating dog or sumthin. The roads quietly dimmed from four to two to that typical single lane where rear view mirrors of oncoming trucks kiss each other hello, goodbye. Swerving through the forest of 15 ton trucks, delighted by the morning and the purrr of my Belarusian Beast, I encountered sometime outside of Hoa Binh, 2-3 hours into the trip, the first tourist bus.

Tourist in Vietnamese is Du Lich (ZU LICK), surprisingly enough similar in sound to SICK. As in sick out the window for ten straight kilometres, while I'm tryin to pass and avoid getting a fresh stomach of chao ga and dog on myself and mine. I've seen some good pukin' in my time, mainly from my own mouth, but the ten clicks of vomit out this otherwise nice bird was really enough, I tightened my grip and made my pass dodging a fresh bag of spew — I'm sure they had been saving to throw at me (and I thought they couldn't here me laughing over the engine). I good dodge & swerve, a nice middle finger (which I hope they understood) and I was on my way...

The road had now stretched from Vina-wasteland — to rice paddies and hills — to the mountains that we belong. A quick scarf down of pho bo in Hoa Binh and some 10am bia hoi (Beer) and the road was ours, steep, beautiful and surrounded by rocks.

If I were to describe how much it sucked when I leaned the bike over I'd undervalue just how stupid it was when I did lean it over. We had been pretty anal retentive about trying to stick together (something we'd learn quick as foolish) and were doing loops and over the shoulder glances to keep in touch (as some of the dumb of us had no rear view mirrors). I was riding up this mountainside and didn't hear the sound of the rider to my rear. I slung around the saddle and stared down the whole roadside.

When I turned around I was off the road at a 45 degree angle. "Oh Fuck" was said without desperation, only with disgust. Off course I landed on my left side. Of course I landed on my elbow, hip and shoulder, and of course it was the exact same spot I had landed on last week when I decided I wanted to see if the Minsk Stork could fly. The blood was quite nasty and it looked far worse than it felt. When the rider to the rear showed up, I was stripped to waste cursing jesus, smoking a square and kicking the front tire straight. And as always a crowd of mountain folk appeared from nowhere to watch the excitement...and laugh.

Band-aid, gauze and some duct tape later, and the beast was rollin' true.

The land from Hoa Binh to Yen Chau drastically changed between rice paddy flats and rock faced mountains. I was feeling so very blue from the crash, doubts fled in, "fuck this is a long trip. I spill like that everyday and at least one will kill me." A timid nature, doubt, and hesitation are not allies on these roads. The split second decisions, of whether to run off the road, through the buffalo shit, over the chicken, into the old woman, or into the truck, are required constantly. You have to drive fast to get there by nightfall. You have to drive like a madman to avoid being run over by the other madmen. And you have to accelerate to avoid most collisions. The focus your mind gets from this type of experience is what the whole thing is about. You drive in situations that scare the shit out of you. And then see beauty that you've never dreamed of. Makes things like cold beer and beef right there next to heaven.

But anyway, I was down. I had slowed down and my spirits were down. Thank god for fucking tourists.

He denies it for some reason, but I know he did it all. When I caught up with Richard he was parked in front of a tourist bus (we were not yet as far from Hanoi as we needed for serenity). It was a beautiful bluff and the tourists had all stopped reading their paperbacks to trek, take pictures and whatever those fucking palanquin riders do.

There will be some issues with how I view backpackers. They are scum. They come to a country with their pretensions of cheap drugs and banana pancakes. They argue over prices and still get ripped off. They spend 2 days in a place and become authorities. They follow the same path. They all look the same and buy the same shit (like Ho Chi Minh shirts, pith helmets, or those yellow star shirts). They stink. THEY RUN FROM WESTERN SOCIETIES WHILE THEY REPRESENT THE MOST WESTERN SEGMENT OF WESTERN SOCIETY!! So yeah fuck them and their trekking and whatever they do.

And now you ask. What makes me different?
A)I don't have a local handler to keep me safe.
B)I don't take transportation, I provide my own.
C)I can speak some of the language.
D)My interests are long-term.
F)I eat pho for breakfast everyday.

Them's my qualifications. Them's my justifications.

Right, so Richard is in front of this bus of cultural ambassadors using their thousand dollar cameras on a predetermined picture. It's a beautiful scene of the near Tonkin alps. Lovers embrace. Sighs and oos emanate.. and the four fucking riders of hell come blowing in front of them. I have a bloody shirt wrapped around my arm and as I ride up to Richard, my engine quiets just in time to hear, "fuck off, you wankers!" as he cuts gravel that sprays against the front of the bus. Oh yeah, I laughed. In fact I also sprayed gravel on that damn bus, and I forgot all about that little accident.

We were now firmly in the hills. The roads went either up or down, no flats. After a quick couple litres of beer near Moc Chau, of course it began to rain. It didn't take that long to figure out how fast we should ride in rain. Around a bend and a hill I noticed a rather large-r crowd of mountain folk by the road, with of course their buffalo. I then noticed Richard dead in the center of the road lifting his bike off the ground. I slowed down to a stop and BOOM. I see Stephen go flying over the front of my bike (did I mention that I don't have brake lights). Bits of Russian bike fly about, Stephen does a bit of a roll, losses one of his flip flops (idiot) and slides a bit on the road. I'm just standing on my bike wondering what the hell just happed. I looked back and somehow his fender and wheel have my back wheel pinned. I look at Stephen and he's standing there a bit headed (definition forthcoming) after the fall, but is otherwise unscathed.

The Mountain folk at this time are livin it. A three Mr. Westerner pile-up right there. What a good time, eh?

Well, here's what happened. Richard came around a corner to see a rather large buffalo frolicking by the road. What he almost failed to notice was that the buffalo had a rope from his nose to a tree stretched neck high across the road. He leaned the bike over to basically keep his head. Many, many drunk mountain men really thought it was the funniest bit ever. When I stopped, Stephen's brakes had locked up in the rain and he had just slammed into my rear. All people were fine and the Bikes, well they're Minsks and are built not for speed, but for pain.

It is for events like this that the word "fuck" is made. Some people believe swear words are the tools of people who can't express themselves. Even if that is the case, how else can you describe such things than to say "fuck." I will say it, "fuck," and perhaps there is no greater situation than motor biking in Vietnam that validates the word "fuck."

Couple of smokes later, some jokes with the mountain folks, and off we go. The rest of the day was waterfalls, mountains and bad roads, that simply need to be experienced to be understood.

We arrived in Yen Chau around 5:00, check in the government hotel, get drunk, and go to sleep.

The monkey wine was near and the gods knew we were coming.

Day 2: No Sleep til Dien Bien Phu.

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Poll
Best random visual of the day:
o A dog running down the road with a dead snake in his maw 7%
o A dog eating a bag of sick from a du lich 7%
o A single bicycle track through a ten pound Buffalo turd 32%
o Yan Chau's town fatty pants demanding the big spoon at the town restaurant 12%
o This Vietnamese redneck riding down a mountain road (loose definition of road) while simultaneously doing yoga 40%

Votes: 55
Results | Other Polls

Related Links
o Minsk
o Also by bankind


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The Vietnam Minsk Motorbiking for Monkey Wine War Journal: pt:1 | 60 comments (39 topical, 21 editorial, 0 hidden)
You are Tom Wolfe and I claim my five pounds (4.00 / 1) (#2)
by nairobiny on Sat Aug 31, 2002 at 08:09:48 AM EST

Despite all that I found it deeply entertaining and will take the risk that posting this vacuous congratulatory remark will earn me low moolah.

un-fucking-believable (3.00 / 2) (#7)
by dalinian on Sat Aug 31, 2002 at 09:02:49 AM EST

This is without doubt the best story I've read on K5. And even if you disagree, you should still vote it up, if only for this line:
and perhaps there is no greater situation than motor biking in Vietnam that validates the word "fuck."
Lines like that make me forget that I'm reading a K5 story and not a novel by Kerouac or Camus.

Casinoland (5.00 / 2) (#14)
by Nick Ives on Sat Aug 31, 2002 at 02:06:39 PM EST

Surely you must remember localroger's Casino Odyssey series? Here's part four, all the other bits are linked to from that =).

I hope this series ends up being as good as that one, like, yea...

--
Nick
caffeine, nicotine...

[ Parent ]

haven't seen it (none / 0) (#15)
by dalinian on Sat Aug 31, 2002 at 02:13:32 PM EST

Actually I haven't read it. I didn't use K5 yet (except for occasional random browsing) at the time it was posted. But thanks; I'm going to read it now.

[ Parent ]
For my part (none / 0) (#35)
by localroger on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 05:28:08 PM EST

I thoroughly enjoyed this and am looking forward to the second part. I would have voted it FP but I didn't read it in the queue. I have been working 7 days a week for the last month and it looks like I'll have to keep up the pace for another month or so, so I haven't spent much time here.

As for comparing this piece to my casino series, I think both get their power from a sense of verisimilitude. Most people haven't travelled in the levels I've known at the casino, and I know I for one have never gone motorbiking in Vietnam. What a totally cool adventure.

I can haz blog!
[ Parent ]

Yes... (none / 0) (#51)
by SPYvSPY on Tue Sep 03, 2002 at 11:56:31 AM EST

Kerouc and Camus are appropriately sophomoric references.
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[ Parent ]

I see (none / 0) (#52)
by dalinian on Tue Sep 03, 2002 at 02:53:23 PM EST

Well, this story didn't exactly remind me of Dante's Divina Commedia, for example, or say, the slightly crazy Confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, even though they both concern travelling as well.

I haven't read too many books, but I'm not a complete idiot either. What references would you have considered appropriate? I'm always looking for good new books to read, even though I'm currently busy with some Kierkegaard.

[ Parent ]

Not travel, but (none / 0) (#53)
by rickydazla on Wed Sep 04, 2002 at 05:48:53 AM EST

The Quiet American by Graham Greene
and
Despatches by Michael Herr
are both acclaimed novels which provide vivid descriptions of Vietnam's country and culture.

-------------------------------

I'm a million different people
[ Parent ]
thanks (none / 0) (#54)
by dalinian on Wed Sep 04, 2002 at 06:09:32 AM EST

Thanks for the tips. But I don't believe the main idea about this story is that it happens in Vietnam. I think it's more about adventure in general, with some existentialist attitude thrown in. It's a road story (and a pretty good one too), and it should be compared to other road stories.

[ Parent ]
In my opinion... (none / 0) (#59)
by SPYvSPY on Wed Sep 04, 2002 at 11:36:17 PM EST

...Nabakov's Lolita is the ultimate thinking (and feeling) man's road story. I give that novel major bonus points for the vivid American "landscape" it portrays.
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[ Parent ]

Sorry... (none / 0) (#58)
by SPYvSPY on Wed Sep 04, 2002 at 11:33:22 PM EST

...nothing against Camus or Kerouac. On the Road or The Stranger are two novels that (IMO) represent a milestone in a literate young person's development. I thought your association was rather apt, actually, considering the effortful and earnest K5 story above. ;)
------------------------------------------------

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[ Parent ]

Dang, I want a Minsk (1.00 / 1) (#12)
by georgeha on Sat Aug 31, 2002 at 12:01:19 PM EST

but I probably couldn't license it in the US.

If only... (none / 0) (#26)
by bankind on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 07:01:56 AM EST

Yeah, I dread getting rid of the thing. But there is no way the thing would be accepted on a US road. No turning lights, no rear view mirror, its loud and really stinks. The only substitute that I can find to buy in the US is a late 1960's early 1970's-ish Honda Scrambler (around 300ccs). Those bikes are super tight. But please don't run the market up on E-bay cause I'll be getting one in December,

Plus, although in Minsk I trust, it is only 125cc. Now the bikes they got in Cambodia. They got these Yamahas with digital displays and GPS, big nasty 400cc+ engines that will basically eat everything. But the beauty of the Minsk will always be that with a little spit and duct tape you can make the thing run.


"Insurgents are blowing up pipelines and police stations, geysers of sewage are erupting from the streets, and the electricity is off most of the time -- but we've given Iraq the gift of supply-side economics." -Krugman
[ Parent ]

You can get a Ural (none / 0) (#31)
by strlen on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 03:02:59 PM EST

There's even Ural dealership here in the US. Ural is another brand of Soviet bikes, however, their bikes are exact replicas of 1937 BMW.

--
[T]he strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone. - Henrik Ibsen.
[ Parent ]
The Chinese are making em too! (none / 0) (#41)
by hughk on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 02:15:53 AM EST

I understand that the Urals are now being cloned by the Chinese who are producing a cheaper copy. It is still however quite faithful with the parts interchangeable with the Ural and the original antique BMW twin.

It is a much bigger bike than the Minsk, but it is still maintainable just about everywhere and because of the Chinese connection, particularly in Asia.

[ Parent ]

Cool (none / 0) (#46)
by wji on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 01:22:14 PM EST

The Ural truck is ubiquitous in the Soivet army, and is used as a transported for a lot of neat weapons.

You can see the Ural web site here. It's got some interesting, uh, whatever the Russian equivalent of Engrish is ('The trucks of increased reliability'). And then there's the Ural truck's role in the Russian equivalent of "Fear Factor", only they don't bother with the worm-eating crap:
The TV men planned to let the participants drive the trucks when shooting the lap called "Earth", which will be shown on 20th May. They said, let them drive having no certifiacte and experience in driving. The "URALAZ" workers made the situation more extreme. From the two quarries offered to them they chose the one with more steep slopes. Upgrading, driving down and slope overcoming were complicated by the soil. The point is that the quarry is used for construction sand production, which is deposited by suction-tube dredger. Therefore the URAL trucks had to drive on clay soil softened by rain, sand and silt formed due to dredger operation...

In conclusion, the Powerpuff Girls are a reactionary, pseudo-feminist enterprise.
[ Parent ]

Different Ural (none / 0) (#47)
by strlen on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 02:07:58 PM EST

There's Ural motorcycles, and Ural trucks. Russians make a good deal of other trucks though. The kamaz, for instance, are a very capable family of big rigs, and some are available with gasoline engines. The gasoline engines are there for use on high elevations, since diesel won't combust at low atmospheric pressure. These gasoline trucks have proven very usefull for humanitarian convoys in Afghanistan actually.

--
[T]he strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone. - Henrik Ibsen.
[ Parent ]
I thought it was like "Ford" or "Mi (none / 0) (#48)
by wji on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 02:57:09 PM EST



In conclusion, the Powerpuff Girls are a reactionary, pseudo-feminist enterprise.
[ Parent ]
oh i thought you were driving to minsk (2.57 / 7) (#13)
by turmeric on Sat Aug 31, 2002 at 01:51:05 PM EST

but you arent. you are just toolign around a measly 1300 km.

obviously you dont know how to have 'real fun' and are a pathetic coward wallowing in mediocrity and boredom. 'real men' wouldnt stop till they reached venice beach!

I agree (none / 0) (#27)
by bankind on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 07:19:58 AM EST

It certainly wasn't near enough to travel. Now the trip planned in November will be the real deal. We're going to Saigon then to Cambodia (where the bike import is no problem). Across Cambodia to Laos. However, we only have 15 days(bike import restictions) to get across Laos to Thailand. Then we plan on renting a boat to ship the bikes up the Mekong to China (Kunming) and then, somehow, getting back through the border to Vietnam at Lao Cai. Problems, of course, being the Vietnam border,the occasional interaction with the Myamar (Burma), and those kooky Chinese.

But I bet you did this shit while dodging a couple million payloads of bombs and charlie and shit. Or you just ate twinkies, watched "the beach," and really grasped the whole hippy utopian delusion of SEA travel.


"Insurgents are blowing up pipelines and police stations, geysers of sewage are erupting from the streets, and the electricity is off most of the time -- but we've given Iraq the gift of supply-side economics." -Krugman
[ Parent ]

Taken in kind (4.50 / 2) (#21)
by bankind on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 06:14:29 AM EST

Yeah, there are some real problems with this peice. But understand I have none of the luxeries concerning MS word and other such great inventions of the western world. I didn't give two shits about grammar cause it's not a thesis. I didn't post this as a diary because it seemed a bit more interesting than that.

Thanks to everyone that gave a thumbs up. This is a very genuine travel log, I hate exagereations almost as much as I hate grammar, but take it as it's worth. I also hate travel logs that go adjetive crazy: "the long deep red fast river crossed through the tall steep snow-covered glorious mountains, BLAH."--you have to see those things yourself. As you can see, I'm far more of a puke and blood sort, cause you just can't say much for waterfalls (unless you're TLC).

I wrote this for friends but posted it cause I figured that the K5ers were well worthy of the Vietnam Minsk experience. I hope everyone here gets off their ass and goes (comes). There will be 2 more parts to the story and if it doesn't make the "grade" then interested sorts can see my diary. thanks people.


"Insurgents are blowing up pipelines and police stations, geysers of sewage are erupting from the streets, and the electricity is off most of the time -- but we've given Iraq the gift of supply-side economics." -Krugman

Sweat thee not. (none / 0) (#22)
by pwhysall on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 06:33:00 AM EST

Gimme part 2 by email and we'll fix up the typos and spelling errors, and maybe tweak the style just a little.

Your style rocks though - I was very cautious when working on this piece because I didn't want to hurt the flow.

Blimey, part 1 isn't even up yet and I want to read part 2 already.

/me taps his foot and checks his email every 5 minutes...
--
Peter
K5 Editors
I'm going to wager that the story keeps getting dumped because it is a steaming pile of badly formatted fool-meme.
CheeseBurgerBrown
[ Parent ]

cool deal (none / 0) (#25)
by bankind on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 06:51:06 AM EST

Let me piss out the national day (Sept. 2nd) snake wine hangover and it will be on its way.


"Insurgents are blowing up pipelines and police stations, geysers of sewage are erupting from the streets, and the electricity is off most of the time -- but we've given Iraq the gift of supply-side economics." -Krugman
[ Parent ]

Grammar and spelling... (none / 0) (#44)
by bayankaran on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 09:55:01 AM EST

...nazies are the bane of civilization. I am working on a drink with bottled grammar and spelling idiots.

Your style is refreshing. Keep it up.

[ Parent ]
Great motorcycle travelogues (3.66 / 3) (#28)
by John Miles on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 12:45:56 PM EST

A good friend has just returned from a three-month trip across China, Russia, and Europe, on which he embarked after riding through Thailand earlier this year. I believe he brought 18GB of digital photos home from the China-Russia trip. He's now in the process of sorting through and narrating them for his site.

Check out http://www.davidst.com/journal/index.html. Not exactly "Fear and Loathing in Bangkok," but still a very entertaining read.

For so long as men do as they are told, there will be war.

Excellent stuff (none / 0) (#36)
by bayankaran on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 06:55:34 PM EST

I am tempted to do one. Thanks for the link.

[ Parent ]
Question (3.00 / 8) (#37)
by BinaryTree on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 09:37:42 PM EST

How the FUCK did this shit make it to the front page?

No fucking shit! (3.80 / 5) (#38)
by Pig Hogger on Sun Sep 01, 2002 at 11:51:00 PM EST

Somewhere in Vietnam it exists, Monkeys sealed in alcohol bottles, to be drunk. They say it helps the penis, and everyone needs a lil' help with the penis. So if asked why, it was the wine, not the culture, not the roads, not the bikes, or rivers, or food, but we all needed a lil' penis extension that only the monkey spirits could provide.
I've had sex with enough oriental (with a fair proportion of vietnamese) men to say that this is total bullshit.

They've got small dicks, fine, but let it be known that the low volume of blood needed to sustain an erection means that they have terrifically hard dicks as a matter of course, which is terribly handy when it comes to the simple matter of FUCKING, be it ass, mouth or vagina.

The monkey crap and whatnot is just bullshit; oriental men are *NORMALLY* sex powerhouses anyways.

And when they come, they really come in buckets; I've never choked on a cumshot before I sucked an oriental (this shot was actually from Laos). So, despite the small dicks, if you can have sex with an oriental man, enjoy it, because there is no better sex than with an oriental man!

Only because... (5.00 / 1) (#42)
by bankind on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 04:28:36 AM EST

our great nation is facing the dangers of TERROR will that sort of language be tolerated.

but anyway, the Vietnamese shove everything in the world into bottles of rice wine and every single one is said to be "good for the penis." The Chinese are almost the same except they don't add the festive flare of booze and instead make soup out of monkeys and bear's gall-bladders because it is "good for the penis."

One really nutty old geezer friend of mine always screams out "RECHS MA-GENE" before he does a shot. It took a good while before I realized he was saying "Sex Machine." Of course all booze will do is give you a whiskey dick, but these folks are nutters for their wines. Be damned if I'm gonna be that dumb westerner to tell them that James Brown was the RECHS MA-GENE not from drinking five snake wine but from smokin dust. I'll let someone with a well developed theory on the benifits of a small penis do that.


"Insurgents are blowing up pipelines and police stations, geysers of sewage are erupting from the streets, and the electricity is off most of the time -- but we've given Iraq the gift of supply-side economics." -Krugman
[ Parent ]

does this apply (none / 0) (#57)
by 5pectre on Wed Sep 04, 2002 at 09:11:53 PM EST

to all guys with small dicks, or just orientals?

"Let us kill the English, their concept of individual rights might undermine the power of our beloved tyrants!!" - Lisa Simpson [ -1.50 / -7.74]

[ Parent ]
except of course... (none / 0) (#60)
by ph0rk on Tue Sep 10, 2002 at 02:31:17 PM EST

>> because there is no better sex than with an oriental man!

except of course sex with me.

[ f o r k . s c h i z o i d . c o m ]
[ Parent ]
monkey wine (4.00 / 2) (#39)
by chale on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 01:22:13 AM EST

The monkey wine was the only way we could explain it all.

good thing i had not taken the next spoonful of rice or i would have needed to clean off my monitor.

it takes all kinds of people to make the world run and it takes all kinds of stories to make K5 interesting. i will agree that this is the kind of story that would probably be very good being told to a group of like-minded people at 2 am while drinking beer on the front porch. i look forward to the rest.

clarence


Last week, I began a sentence by saying, "If Bush had any imagination..." and then I hit myself. Silly me. "Molly Ivins"

2 A.M. (4.50 / 2) (#40)
by farmgeek on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 01:52:19 AM EST

At 2 A.M. on a Monday morning, while waiting for the SQL server to defrag and the bondo on the chainsaw to cure (don't ask) I can only say that this is an excellent piece.

Your remark about the trekkers reminded me of some folks I know who like to camp.

Except they don't really camp, the kinda move a small subset of their home out in the woods, but dammit man that aint campin.

Anyway, your story makes me want to go.  Thanks for inviting us along.

What is Pho? (2.00 / 1) (#43)
by rickydazla on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 08:40:56 AM EST

Just interested.

-------------------------------

I'm a million different people
The World's Best Soup (none / 0) (#49)
by KnightStalker on Tue Sep 03, 2002 at 01:55:00 AM EST

Beef broth boiled for hours with onions, ginger, garlic, anise, cinnamon, cloves, etc., poured onto thinly sliced raw beef, various other interesting cow parts, and rice noodles, and served with herbs. You can't beat it.

[ Parent ]
Wow ! (4.00 / 1) (#45)
by janoc on Mon Sep 02, 2002 at 12:33:37 PM EST

Cool, I had a good laugh on this one :-) A very good story and looking forward for the part 2 !

What I took away from your story... (5.00 / 4) (#50)
by SPYvSPY on Tue Sep 03, 2002 at 11:53:58 AM EST

You think you are cool. You tend toward derivative and hyperbolic prose. You grasp at the brass ring of "authenticity", but get a handful of crappy, broken, and inferior things (i.e., sometimes a crummy old Russian motorbike is just a crummy old motorbike, or sometimes a miserable old mountain person is just a miserable old person).

(P.S. I know this comment is editorial, but what the fuck else am I supposed to comment about? As far as I can tell the only issue presented by this schlock is whether or not the author is as cool and non-poseur as he thinks he is. Having firmly established that his antics and put-downs (combined with a jumble of off-beat objects, places and people that are as practiced and forced as a Marlon Brando reading) do not make him cool, I think we are only left to ponder the quality of the prose.)
------------------------------------------------

By replying to this or any other comment in this thread, you assign an equal share of all worldwide copyright in such reply to each of the other readers of this site.

This is the best... (4.33 / 3) (#55)
by SanSeveroPrince on Wed Sep 04, 2002 at 07:24:26 AM EST

...piece of mental masturbation I have ever read.

While the bombastic style is appropriately humorous, it would be good if you focused a little less on how cool and cynical you are, and a little more on your writing.

Plenty of promise, not much delivery.

----

Life is a tragedy to those who feel, and a comedy to those who think


Wait for me!!! (4.00 / 2) (#56)
by iggysan on Wed Sep 04, 2002 at 07:36:05 AM EST

The ones that are knocking the story are the same ones who wished they had the balls to take up such an adventure. At least he's out there doing it. Thanks for taking me along for the ride. And yes I laughed my fucking ass off. Can't wait for day two.

The Vietnam Minsk Motorbiking for Monkey Wine War Journal: pt:1 | 60 comments (39 topical, 21 editorial, 0 hidden)
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