dear diary…

…it’s been a hot minute since last we spoke, so forgive me if i take a moment to change and settle into my pleated, high fastening blogger pants while i get on down to brass tacks. now as i’m sure all you avid readers have noticed, i’ve been trying some new and controversial methods of blogging the past few entries to boost ratings and draw new readers. obviously its been working considering the obscene plethora of fan mail that’s currently taking over my poor secretary’s desk. and as flattered as i am, i’m more appalled by the fatuous impracticality of my readers expressing their adoration via the postal service when there are perfectly usable comment fields below in which to gush. kids these days.

the stupids step out

have you read or watched tales of such titles? it was a familial favorite in the helton household when i was a wee one and as such, a phrase that applied to many an outing. if you have not been so exposed, let this be your deflowering in the ways of all things stupid, and in september.

we left laos under the preconception of a miscalculation, one that could easily have been rectified had we simply deciphered the block lettered visa like normal, prepared travelers do. we have, after all, made our lives out of this trip. instead, we returned to thailand a week earlier than necessary, and with 3 days hanging out of the end of our new thai entry stamp like a seatbelt enclosed in the backdoor of a speeding sedan – scratching, denting, and annoying the crap out of owner and observer alike.

Laos Def Poetry Jam

they call me cardboard ’cause of the way i breaks it down.

♣   ♥   ♦

come gather ’round, chillun, and have ye a listen,

to my lyrical precision, watch my very prose glisten.

as i christen this edition of the prime directive mission,

it’s imperative this narrative speaks true to my ambition.

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