Week 8: Out on my ass

It was only a matter of time before someone was voted out of Belair Big Brother and given that the only person on the electoral roll is Jon (and the punch-cards were rigged and the black vote was eliminated) it's time to go.... ME! Stay tuned for my FHM cover in 5...4....3...2...

A Place Of My Own While the eviction via email came as a surprise, since Chez Belair has so far been blessed with 90 per cent peace and harmony (10 per cent drunken tirades (of a not-mine nature)), moving into my own apartment will help promote 100 per cent peace and harmony and no per cent drunken tirades, which is a good thing.

I could wax on and on like a sarcastic Karate Kid about the injustices of being kicked out when I'M THE ONE STILL TETHERED ALBEIT TENTATIVELY TO REALITY, but I won't, because that would be immature. Instead of turning my blog into a bitch session, I'll exorcise my feelings of rejection, powerlessness and resentment via the highly evolved practice of MS Paint. This pic was taken at Penny Black.

Otherwise, Bangkok has been good this week. Sandra Aranda (see above) from Barcelona dropped in and we took her straight to Penny Black for kamikazes and diet pills, as is the custom. Mel and Luther popped in again on their way home and were sucked into our time/memory vortex, missing their flight by about five hours. And work continued to be work - my immediate area bathed in the sweet sweet sounds of Private's porno Gladiator being translated into Chinese.

Nothing much else has happened since the girls left, apart from the Sandra Aranda night, where I took some very covert pictures of the depressed 7-11 staff and later dry heaved into my toilet bowl for fifteen minutes (don't have a MS Paint for that, sorry).



The girl from the 7-11 says bye, come again!