If you're ever over there in England, you won't want to miss this.  

I think this means you have to put your beer down if you want to fire the guns.  

London, England

Recently I was over there in London, England. If you’re from The South, you always have to add the “England” part even though everybody knows where London is. Sort of like people from The North always say Dallas, Texas. “Today, in Dallas Texas, President Kennedy blah blah blah…”

Now used to, if I was in London, England and mentioned that I was from Texas, people’s eyes would light up and they would get sort of excited. That would be my cue to start talking about guns, gun laws, gun racks, gun shows… any story with a gun in it would fascinate them.

My favorite little Texas gun trivia came from my Daddy. In Texas, anyone can get a license to carry a gun by taking a firearms class. If you pass the class you can carry a gun but it HAS to be concealed. I guess they’re trying to keep people from walking around with holsters and six shooters like they’re John Wayne or something. So my Daddy got his “license to kill” and now he can carry a gun anywhere he wants, except TWO places…

1. A bar. You can’t carry a gun into a bar. You gotta take it outside if you want to pop a cap in someone.

2. A sporting event. You can imagine what would happen if some team connected with a long pass against the Cowboys if half the people in the crowd had guns and had been drinking stadium beer all day.

So that was the old days in London, England. Now if I mention that I’m from Texas, I get an earful of “Why I hate George Bush.” I tell you what, they HATE Dubya over there. Like football rivalry hate. Like A&M vs Texas hate.

What’s funny is that when Dubya was first elected they hated him because they thought he was an idiot. I’ve tried to explain to Brits that sometimes we Americans like to have someone running the country that you would invite over to your BBQ. Someone that you would trust to cook the burgers.

Now they think Dubya is this religious mastermind who fooled them into thinking he was an idiot. Actually, I think Ann Richards said something to that effect after Dubya won the race for Texas Governor.

So now if I’m over there in London, England and someone asks me where I’m from, I tell em I’m from Louisiana and I’ve got the necked pictures of my sister to prove it.

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How do you know if any Philippinos have been in your house? Footprints on the toilet.  

Flight Delays

Now this is sort of a follow up story to my recent experience in the Tokyo lounge. As I’ve mentioned before, they’ve got this automatic beer pouring machine in there. I am truly fascinated by it. So much so that I watched it pour about 11 beers before my flight.

There’s short period in the lounge that is a little hazy to me, but I do remember waking up to someone poking me and saying it’s time to go.

This particular day I was flying United Airlines. Now the thing with all American carriers is that the waitresses (a.k.a. flight attendants) work on a seniority system. That means the oldest broads get first pick on which flights they work. Of course, all the waitresses want the international flights because then they can work like 2 days a week and they’re done. So this flight was staffed, as usual, by a bunch of old hags and a couple homos.

As I was making my way to my seat, one of these old hags was flirting with me… “Can I take your jacket, sir?” “It looks like you had a good time in Tokyo” that sort of thing. So, I slapped her on the ass and said “Bring me a whisky, darlin.”

Well, that didn’t seem to go down to well because I didn’t get a whisky and soon one of the homo waitresses came to talk to me.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you deplane now.”

“Deplane! Deplane! Who are you? Tattoo? Tell Mr. Rork I’m still waiting on my whisky”

“Sir, I need you to leave the aircraft.”

“Why?”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, sir.”

“Too much to drink? Hell, I’m just gettin started, son. I got 12 hours of free liquor coming. Besides, I’m not flying this fucker. Who cares if I’m drunk?”

“Sir…”

“Tell Sweetie back there to come up here and I’ll make everything all right.”

Then the homo left. I thought everything was cool and decided to take a little nap before we took off. Next thing I know Mr Waitress is back and he’s got 2 Jap cops with him. I sized them up and I figured I could take ‘em. Except they had guns.

“Sir, we’ve booked you on another flight. If you would like to step outside I can give you the details.”

“Look. I ain’t stupid. You give me the details here. I ain’t spending the night in jail.”

“No one said anything about jail, sir.”

Now ordinarily I would’ve busted a beer bottle and shoved it this guy’s throat. But being without a beer bottle, and realizing that my whisky was never going to show, I decided to “deplane” before those Jap cops shot my ass.

I tell ya, the world changed on 9/11. Before then, the waitresses WANTED you to get drunk and slap their ass. Now you have a couple beers, slap an ass, and you’re treated like a terrorist.

I tell you what, these Chinese people sure do know how to have a good time. Just imagine all the fun stuff that is NOT prohibited... smoking, spitting, cock fighting...

I'm not exactly sure what the bottom right sign says, but I think it says you can get a fine of 1500 Hong Kong dollars ($214) for not washing your hands after eating pigeons.

Fight Club 

Fight Club

What’s the first rule of fight club? We don’t talk about fight club.

I actually belong to a fight club. It’s based in Bangkok and meets every Sunday night. The matches last anywhere from 15 minutes to 45 minutes. The winner of each fight gets 100 Baht ($2.50) but the loser gets flushed down the toilet. That’s right, it’s a fish fight club.

I joined this fight club because I was alone, looking for direction in my life, trying to fill that bottomless pit of despair and self-loathing brought on by years of substance abuse, and because the fights take place in my friend’s bar. So it was a great excuse to go drinking on a Sunday night.

The first time at fight club I didn’t have a fish. Who does? Lucky for me, my bar-owner friend had some fish for sale. She also had young women, but they were only for rent. Anyway, I picked out the biggest and ugliest fish of the bunch figuring he would be the best fighter. I named him Big George after George Foreman, of course, who, by the way, is also from Marshall, TX.

I actually ran into George Foreman at McDonald’s one day (before he could make his own burgers with his grill). He is the biggest guy I have ever seen in my life. Boxing him would be like boxing a tree with a mule tied to it.

So back to fight club. You get your fish, make bets with your buddy, drop your fish in “the arena” (a.k.a. bowl), and then watch the two fish kick the shit out of each other. It’s a lot more entertaining than you would think. Way better than a bug zapper.

At first the fish prance around (yes, fish can actually prance) slapping each other in the face with their tails. Then one of them has enough of that shit and will bite some of that tail off. Then, IT IS ON, baby! The fish start biting pieces off each other - like Mike Tyson. Later on there are little bits of fish tails and fins all over the bottom of the bowl. At some point the fish go Brokeback Mountain on us and lock lips. But rather than expressing their homo love, they are actually trying to drown each other. Neither fish can breathe and they float to the bottom. First fish to let go and come up to breathe is the loser. Unless the other one never comes up. In that case the owner / trainer takes a trip to the men’s room…

FYI, Big George is alive and well. I’m teaching him Kung Fu.

Well, I've been to one world fair, a picnic, and a rodeo and I've got to say this is the strangest damn thing I've ever seen. Apparently this is a video game accessory that allows you to eat while you're playing video games. They do have a problem out there in Asia with people dropping dead after playing online games in internet cafes for like 72 hours straight.

I've got the opposite problem. Because I live in the rural, my connection speed is about 19K on a good day. A good day being no rain and no pine trees falling on the phone lines. That means lots of waiting for porn downloads which leads to lots of Macaroni & Cheese snacking while I wait.

Anyway, check out the website here:

http://www.watch.impress.co.jp/game/docs/20060213/ggl.htm

It's in Japanese but all you need to see are the pictures. They even have spoon and fork attachments for all of us non-rice-eaters. If they come out with a fork and steak knife set I might think about it.