Thank you, thank you for a warm chapter on another snowy morning in Seattle.

Thanks!

Hey guys. Glad you like. The above just popped out accidentally this early afternoon. By the time I got back tonight I'd forgotten I'd written it. Pure first draft so bear with the shoddy prose.

A lot has happened since then.

Right now, I'm in a state of shock - just back from one of my most extraordinary adventures. I've wiped out another Bongo. He left confused and shaking, spun right off his axis. I don't blame him. This was extreme - even Dogster's battered soul crumbled by the end of it. The more I think about it, the more disturbing it gets. In fact, I'd better stop thinking, right now, for fear my soul will bleed.

I'll tell you about it later. There won't be many jokes.

Really fun reading dogster. Thanks so much for taking us along on your adventures! You are a fabulous writer -- we adore you and await the next installment!

Never did a massage cause such pain to so many. Ouch.

I mourn the loss of your eyebrows. Don't fret. They'll grow back a lot faster than your spinal column would have mended.

Thanks for taking time out of your spiral to throw us a flare now and then. You know how we worry.

Good to hear from you Dogster. Your posts are starting to have an "Apocalypse Now" feeling to them. Hope you're enjoying yourself.

I think I figured out your true identity. You ARE Slumdog! (Not so sure about the millionaire part.)

Some things just suddenly make sense. Your arrival, as you described it, is much like mine in Rome.

Jai Ho,
BC

Another Bongo Bites the Dust.

Monestary Bongo is still my favorite with all the monks running their errands using the dogmobile.

I'm taking a day off to collect my thoughts. It's always a relief to realise one doesn't have to go out every day and DO stuff. Yesterday was so intense, I need a breather. With luck I'll squeeze out some words later. I think I need to get that adventure outta my head and onto paper. Therapy. I'll go for a walk then come back and answer some of your comments..

Well, the board has certainly picked up, hasn't it? This post was about to drop off into cyber-space. I can see the void looming already. So let me do some housekeeping:

marija: funnily enough, your words 'don't agree to anything this afternoon that you might regret...' popped up in my mind late during my adventure yesterday. I didn't. Just.

marja_: you've probably done more research than me by now. I got diverted yesterday writing my massage story, so launched into the complete unknown. Let's hope I can give you the goods.

Kathie: it's not so much about the numbers. [he lied] But gee, wouldn't be great to see some stats in here? It ain't rocket science to add the number of hits. Despite my flowery prose, I love to 'do the sums' on things. I was about to say 'Figures don't lie' but given our financial meltdown that's not true at all.

Gpanda: keep guarding my door.

AskO: another glorious post. Alas, the 7,000 metre ascents are beyond me. I get light-headed in Darjeeling, let alone half-way up Kanchenjunga. If I was to be 'entertained' by some of your lady companions, I'd probably die on the massage table. Quite possibly half my age? - AND the rest. Fodor's is the only place I write.

Katrina: Laptop. A lovely new Sony VAIO Z165N, hot off the sweat-shop floor. Light as a feather. I don't regret bringing it. I'll need it on the boat. Lordy, it'll be my only companion. [I've been sneaking into CruiseCritic checking out my fellow cruisers - I sense a kind of five star catastrophy looming]

MaryW: I love hearing from you [and the roo-mangler]. I can smell that sweet West Australian air in your posts.

LeonF: I don't think you'll see this 'cos Today Is The Day! Bon voyage my friend. You'll find me in the guest book at Yangsum Farm - the only tourist who ever got lost. But, pal, you'll have forgotten all about the Dog by then - you'll just be having an amazing time. Best, best wishes for your adventure.

Mang: you're in the pooh on another post. lol. Better just hide in here where you're safe. But, you know, 'Apocalypse Now' is kinda appropriate. You'll see what I mean soon.

Bookchick; What a great connection - funny, the absolute obvious hadn't ocurred to me. If you'd seen me this time yesterday you'd realise JUST how apropos it is.

offwego: I just looked at my eyebrows. They haven't grown back yet. Maybe that's why people aren't hassling me on the street.

JohnFitz: you're probably my neighbour. Somehow I didn't pick-up that you're a Melbourne boy. How did I miss that? Yup, on this time zone, you get first suck of the saveloy. I'm glad you're appreciating the fresh dog meat.

* 'first suck of the saveloy' may, or may not be an old Australian expression. It's up to you. It's not as rude as it seems. Google 'saveloy' lol.

As for clues to crack the Da Ogster Code... nup. It's all a long time ago, mate. I love this public anonymity. All other details are yours - well, kinda..

Jaya: what a pal! your energy and enthusiasm for my tawdry prose gets me started. Is that a picture of you in your profile - or a Bollywood film star? Last time you put up a post you were in the dumps. {when I mentioned the Eclipse] Has life turned around?

Furry: 'over-ripe but juicy' lol. I love that. I'd like to think of myself like that - alas, the words 'rancid and dessicated' seem more appropriate.

Becalm: I have no idea where you live - nor do I particularly care. When you talk I feel a warm breeze from the tropics and the tinkle of temple bells; in the distance the faint waft of 'Welcome to the Hotel California...' In my mind you're in Bali - all the time. Maybe in yours, too.

'Lately it occurs to me
What a long strange trip it's been...'

Yes, my friend, a lot stranger than I thought it was going to be.

Now, why does that phrase make me suddenly want to weep?

I hate the idea of you weeping dogster! Everything will be ok. Just go to a quiet corner, lick your wounds and rejoin us when you are ready to tell us what happened. Somebody once said, "once you scratch a dog, you have a permanent job," so you know we will all be here for you -- you're our doggie!

Hey Dawg, I think one of your Jimmys went missing. I know, there are so many of them it's hard to keep track, but this was probably one of the big Jimmys, maybe even El Presidente Diego.

So, I get this text message this afternoon from the boss. I'm just reading it when he calls to tell me what the message says: that I need to contact an Indian guy that he thinks wants to "help" us, although he can't quite understand the guy. It's been the kind of week that I would like to tell him that I *would* call the guy, if he would just get the ... off the phone, but I bite my tongue.

After getting rid of the boss, I make the call, not to the Jimmy guy, because he doesn't have a phone I can call him on (in retrospect, this should have been a clue). No, I have to call one of our managers, who's with the guy, waiting for my call. Once he hands over the phone, I understand why the boss had trouble (although he'd have trouble understanding the queen of England). This guy has the thickest accent I've ever heard, AND he's speaking faster than any person I've ever known. In his case, I concluded that he's talking so fast because he's one of those people that feels compelled to give you his life story up to the very moment you called before he ever gets near anything resembling a point.

His monologue goes on for several minutes. I have trouble following all of it, but I think I get the gist of it, which is (1) that he is a Very Important Person who Knows People, and (2) he needs a ride from Impact, where he is now, to the Sofitel Silom, where he needs to check out before 4:45 (it's 3:30, I note, and that alone is a 45 minute drive on a good day). Could we please send a car for him.

Huh? I must not have understood him, so I check, "You want me to send a car for you?" Yes, yes. You send car for me. I introduce you to India.

Right. Am I on Candid Camera (oops, just dated myself). I've already concluded that there's almost no way I could get to Impact before 4:30, let alone find a car and driver that's available right this minute. Still, I'm not sure if I should give up so easily, so I try to ask what, exactly, it is he wants to propose to us.

"Oh, I cannot say over the phone. You send a car. We talk on the way."

Ahh... It's about this point when the yellow Jimmy warning light turns bright red and the sirens start going off. Even if it is a false alarm, there's really no avoiding the truth: I don't have a car to send to him. My company doesn't have cars and drivers. If I need to use a nice car, I have to borrow it from another company, and it usually takes a days notice.

So, I tell Jimmy I don't have a car to send him. He doesn't believe me, so I tell him again. At this point, he gets rather huffy, like, "you must have a car, your company has car" and he also accuses me of thinking exactly what I'm thinking: that he just wants a free ride to town. That's a classic Jimmy trick: try to embarrass you with the truth. Then of course, he hung up on me.

Assuming this guy did finally get a ride to his hotel, I assume he'll be on his way back to you soon. Check your inventory.

Dogster, so kind of you to give each of us a special comment as you do from time to time.

My gloomy day passed and now I hardly remember what happened that day, but luckily I don't stay in the dumps for long. Just sometimes things feel more negative than they really are.

Is that me in the photo? Hmmm, well I know Bob and Andy are planning the Oct. 2009 Boston GTG for which I hope to make this year. Come to the GTG and I promise to wear a sari and you can find out for yourself! :D (I love emoticons, I just keep forgetting to use them).

P.S. the quote on my Starbucks cup yesterday reminded me of something Dosgter would say: "the only problem with travelling is I have to bring myself along"!

Can we conclude that you survived intact your visit with the eunuchs?

What a funny story Brad. I think my Jimmys are somewhat more carnal than yours, but no less amazing. When you meet the mindset head on it's quite a blast, eh?

I was wandering around New Market tonight, in the shadow of my own good self; another hapless single white male being besieged by Jimmys. I laughed and cruised through about as unmolested as it's possible to be. That was me, a year ago.

My King Jimmy, the man who owns the name, friend of all female tourists, salesman, guide and sexual predator, has gone.

I think he's created a power vacuum. Over one thousand of his brothers, friends, cousins and extended family have swarmed in to take his pitch. They all know me. My exploits with King Jimmy are legion, it seems.

'He's very sexy,' they say.

'I guess he must be. He has many girlfriends,' I reply.

'Mm-m-m-m-m-m,' they nod seriously. I don't think they do. But they're looking.

'He has a bi-i-i-ig dick.'

One stretched out his hand, rolled up his sleeve and traced a line across his wrist - about an inch below his palm.

'THAT big.'

'Maybe that's why he has many girlfriends,' I smiled.

I didn't think there was much 'maybe' about it.

Well, Kolkata's loss is Tokyo's gain. King Jimmy's big dick has gone to Japan. I imagine he'll be a sensation there.

Michael, love your story!

Dogster, 98 replies and counting, but waaaay more hits.

I was sitting in another cupboard, slurping down the chai. It was mid-afternoon, muggy and hot, business was slower than usual. Time to talk.

Jimmy's cousin has a twinkle in his distinctly middle-aged eyes. He specialises in 'ladies of certain years'. It appears that backpacker girls are not the only spices to be found in New Market.

'Mmm-m-m, I like them forty, forty-five,' he smiled, 'up.'

I wondered how far 'up' went.

'What about that woman?' I said, pointing at a tourist lady buying pashminas over the way, 'how old is she? Sixty?'

'Too old.'

So there you have it ladies, fresh from the horse's mouth. Apparently you have a use-by-date. Somewhere between 45 and 60 you fall off the Jimmy horizon.

'I don't pretend,' he said, 'I tell them, if you want it - it's available.' He wiggled his head and twinkled his eyes. A rogue. 'We get a room, I turn out the lights... boof, it's over.'

For Jimmy's cousin, maybe.

'A little bit pocket money...?' I asked.

'You get more from the old girls.'

I'm wondering just what the old girls get from Jimmy's cousin.

'Do you have a big dick, like Jimmy?'

'Nah, any dick'll do for the old ones.'

Pathetically grateful, I suppose.

I wandered off into the crowd. A swarm of French tourists had descended on the block. They were all single ladies of certain years, dressed in that international, rather eccentic way. There were a lot of flowing shawls, expensive sunglasses and floppy hats; a lot of use-by-dates carefully pushed back a decade or two, the calendar spa'd and botoxed, stretched and coiffed, a lot of fingers weighed down with their dead husband's gold. They were 'shopping'. It was like a feeding frenzy in the fish-pond.

All yours, Jimmy, I thought.

Just remember to turn out the light.

What a fantastic post to come back to from my asia trip. This board rocks my world.

I've got some googling to do.

"bleached blind parrot" nearly caused root beer to shoot out my nose.

Looking forward to the next installment.

MichaelBKK, forgive me. I called you the wrong name. Criminal, expecially after your great contribution.

Jaya, I love the coffee cup. It's sometimes true - but Dog has made a lot of effort to lighten the load. He now no longer drags along unnecessary excess baggage. I'm not talking suitcases here.

marija: no, not really. Like I said, it was very extreme and ultimately very, very disturbing. Don't worry, I'll write it when I can bear to revisit the topic. But not in this post. It'll be a post of its own. It won't be pretty. I'll have to put a warning on the top. It'll pop out tomorrow - or in three months. Dunno.