American [no longer] In Korea

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Cambodia Intermission: Warning, Plotholes ahead!

 

After having dinner with Brett, we realized just how much we blacked out. Here are a few of the holes in time we managed to fill:

1. In the Air

On the flight from Siem Reap to Guangzhou (we think) I sat next to this fat girl. According to Brett, immediately after sitting down I began telling her my life story. This continued for two hours, and Brett knows because he sat behind us and popped out his headphones every now and then while I was talking about who I was fucking, and my terrible job situation. He was surprised at how engaged and interested she was, considering I talked nonstop the entire flight. I blacked out for at least two hours, which makes sense because that would have been half an hour after I drank the rum and at least eight pink pills and a few blue ones. A rum raisin milk shake is the gayest way possible to black out, but hey, that's Xanax for ya.

Keeping Death In Mind

On SEBASTIAN MARSHALL

March 10, 2010. Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Late morning.

I pulled on my swim trunks, trainers, and a tank top and walked out of my little guesthouse room, sliding through the cramped restaurant strewn with tables, and out into the hot, dusty air of Phnom Penh. It's a hot day. It'll be good to swim after lifting weights.

I said, "No no, thank you" to the tuk-tuk drivers offering to take me somewhere in the city, pushed through the little crowd, and out onto the street. The streets in Cambodia more resemble alleyways than streets, and I navigate around people and vehicles.

I went down to the end of the street, turned left, and skirted along close to the local restaurants, half-tent half-storefront type places to get food. I stepped into the crosswalk, the Hotel Cambodiana rising in front of me. I check right and then left, and I watch left as I cross, watching for oncoming traffic.

A loud scream rings out. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

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