Bridge of Death (Spean Moranak)

So I was crossing Chrouy Chungva bridge with the rest of the posse while on our quest for the Perfect Karaoke Girl (this was before accomplishing my quest by finding Missy, Queen of all that is good and pure in a Khmer singer) and we came across this freaky old expat in the middle of the bridge...

Freaky old Expat: Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.
Sir Libertine: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I am not afraid.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your name?
Sir Libertine: My name is Sir Libertine of Phnom Penh.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your quest?
Sir Libertine: To seek the Perfect Karaoke Girl.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your favorite color?
Sir Libertine: Martini.
Freaky old Expat: Go on. Off you go.
Sir Libertine: Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.
Sir Choad: That's easy.
Freaky old Expat: Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.
Sir Choad: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I'm not afraid.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your name?
Sir Choad: Sir Choad of Pattaya.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your quest?
Sir Choad: To seek the Perfect Karaoke Girl.
Freaky old Expat: What... is the capital of Thailand?
[pause]
Sir Choad: I don't know that.
[tumbles screaming over the side into the Tonle Sap]
Sir Choad: Arrrgggggggg!
Freaky old Expat: Stop. What... is your name?
Sir Dirty Sanchez: Sir Dirty Sanchez of Pattaya.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your quest?
Sir Dirty Sanchez: I seek the Perfect Karaoke Girl.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your favorite color?
Sir Dirty Sanchez: Brown...no, snowbal...
[tumbles screaming over the side into the Tonle Sap]
Sir Dirty Sanchez: Yearhhggggggg!!!
Freaky old Expat: Hee hee heh. Stop. What... is your name?
King Felgerkarb: It is 'Felgerkarb', King of the Karaoke Parlor.
Freaky old Expat: What... is your quest?
King Felgerkarb: To seek the Perfect Karaoke Girl.
Freaky old Expat: What... is the ground-speed velocity of a karaoke girl on an Airblade?
King Felgerkarb: What do you mean? A Vietnamese or Khmer karaoke girl?
Freaky old Expat: Huh? I... I don't know that.
[tumbles over the side into the Tonle Sap]
Freaky old Expat: Aahhhhhhhh!
Sir Phnom Pen: How do know so much about karaoke girls?
King Felgerkarb: Well, you have to know these things when you're a king, you know.

It's good to be the King!

(With credits to Monty Python for making life that much better.)

Bitch Slap!

Don't worry, my loyal readers, I am NOT going soft on Baphometa. My last post below was my online catharsis and electronic farewell to Squeaky.

And thus, this BITCH SLAP is for you, baby!

Now, on to bigger and better things....

Ode To The Spawn of Baphomet

It has been a few months, but those that know me personally know the deal (and thus some of the reason for my lack of updates). Squeaky and I broke up a while ago...it was a long, drawn out process. I was with the most hot girl I could ever dream for...for over a year. She was everything I ever wanted in a partner -- only she just could not stop doing psycho CRAP that drove me fucking INSANE (not they typical inane chick prattles, but some serious shit).
I am dating somebody else now (a simply amazing, loyal, smoking hot singer), but I cannot get Squeaky out of my mind, out of my soul. Her crude, rough humor...her smile, her loud mouthed inappropriate bullshit that would drive me up the wall. Wtf is the matter with me? I want her back, but I cannot take her back. Who in his right mind take a wild, knife wielding, hockey mask wearing maniac back?