Tech-wise Korea is no slouch, boasting ridiculously fast internet speeds at prices Americans can't even dream of, a massive subway system, and the birthplace of the excellent Galaxy S series of smartphones. Unfortunately, computer technology doesn't permeate far past Seoul, where rural-bound assholes like myself deal with the legacies of Windows XP and Internet Explorer 6 running on coal-powered Intel machines from the Pentium era. After living here a year, I understand that most references to Korea really mean Seoul.
Crippled even further by increased censorship, my usual main activity of snorting lines of amphetamines and surfing the web for 10 hours straight has been reduced to mostly waiting for things to load. Most men would have killed themselves within the first 48 hours, but I pride myself on my creativity and ability to adapt to shittier surroundings. I'm like a shit chameleon, and I've come up with plenty of things to do in this little sewer I call home.
Mountains and onion fields aside, there isn't much to be said for the beauty of my little town. Unsightly whores (because if your looks could actually rake in decent money, why the fuck would you be all the way out here servicing farmers?) and drunks can be found wandering night and day, skin drooping off their faces. Twice last week I encountered ajeosshis urinating directly on the sidewalk on my way to the gym.
So here's what I do to keep my sanity, even thrive in such a place:
I insert immature jokes into all of my slide presentations.
I befriend as many local business owners that I can. This, in conjunction with my 'status' as an English teacher has gotten me more free food and booze than I can remember. Some Korean conversation and a photo op now and then is all it takes.
On the weekdays, I have staring contests with old people. More often than not, they will stop whatever it is they are doing to stare at me. So far, I've been unable to hold a stare for longer than 6 seconds before bursting out laughing, and I have never stopped walking to reciprocate a staredown, but I'm getting better.
I go to the gym, which is only therapeutic when old people don't interact with me.
On the weekends, I go to other cities to find white people to fuck. I believe my failure to hook up with Koreans this year is partly my fault for not studying Korean, and partly because the girls are the chastest non-Muslim people I've ever come across. Even Koreans call them many things, but promiscuous is not one of them. Yes, my Korean sucks, and no, I don't have game, looks, or money, but I've eaten enough domestic and imported pussy and asshole to know which is sirloin and which is tenderloin priced higher than its worth. If the myth of Asian vaginal tightness was true, you might have an argument for going after Koreans but the correlation is weak at best- Even the boys with Korean shags reaching into the double digits have concluded with me that Korean women are just not worth the effort.
I've combined paratrooping with something I've been doing for years- hooking up online. I've had some excellent experiences with online dating, obviously because I'm the awesomest writer in the world and I've an extensive folder of dick-pics that I send out with my first message, party invitations, hell I even attach one to the back of my resume. The results have been both fantastic andconsensual, and I can't wait to get some of these stories on here.
Stay tuned for “The Best Rimjob I've Ever Given” which will be uploaded whenever the fuck I get around to it.