blog

to the scammers, the cons, the grifters, the thieves, "marketeers," or the just plain lonely...

pedroveracio — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 04:10:43 GMT

"everything is important. nothing is necessary. smile at everything." --italian/indian tailor good luck long life good health respect trust is earned. you show no connections, offer no words, show people nothing, and ask me to reach out to you. you want a friend? write. talk to people on the forums on tribe. show and share who you are. hunger. need for friendship. these things will only destroy. "live by other people's approval and you will always be their prisoner. chase after money and security and your heart will never unclench." -ryoukan? to receive, you must give. sharing- a difficult art. an important art. me? I need nothing and already have too many "friends." join the community. begin talking to people. maybe in six months, we can talk. I will be watching. maybe. good luck. if your path is not one of compassion it's not you but your ideas those things are my enemy the blind only take the unaware only destroy if you are not giving from the heart leave me alone to do my work in peace paraphrasing/summarizing hesse: love is like the moon you cannot reach out and touch it your hand will block the light if you try to grasp it one must simply let its light fill you listen to the sound of crickets smell the morning dew plum blossoms light healing is painful and a long, long road good luck long life good health

the ugly baby tankling

pedroveracio — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 18:06:17 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yiJkuADwLVI

I had a baby!

pedroveracio — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 03:22:30 GMT

Dear Everyone: Big News! Today my book The Baby Tank hit Amazon.com with sales and generous reviews. Whew! After years of birthing the baby, I'm in post-partum happy heaven. You can see it free at http://www.thebabytank.com Hope you enjoy it + will add a multi-star review on Amazon.com to keep Baby Tank treading. clicky clicky here: http://amzn.com/144149538X Love, New Parent Peter

WooeeoooeeeOOO!

pedroveracio — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 16:40:15 GMT

website is coming along nicely: elephant adopts baby tank circa 1932, woolly tanklift 1973, tank breeding guide up... tossing up content as quickly as I can. http://www.thebabytank.com sadly sadly it looks like the proof won't be showing up until thursday or so... yarg. so technically I not live yet but bah. I gotta share a little.

Writing Primer 2nd Entry

pedroveracio — Mon, 25 May 2009 21:10:04 GMT

Cobbled together another entry for my growing writing primer. Today's topic, The Colonel. Notes on gravitas, construction, blank verse, symbolism, imagery. clicky clicky HERE http://wildpoets.com/community/cauldron.html?func=view&catid=6&id=351#356

writing primer... what i learned in writing school

pedroveracio — Fri, 22 May 2009 17:56:27 GMT

I'm starting a mini-series thread/blog about writing. because I'm a preachy fuck. and I'm realizing that after one does X many critiques, one feels compelled to write 'the essential' bullet points of their craft. so.. figured I'd share. but not here. HERE: http://wildpoets.com/community/cauldron.html?func=view&catid=6&id=351#351

proof ordered

pedroveracio — Fri, 22 May 2009 06:38:10 GMT

finally after a bazillion hours of editing + administrative bs/ so mebbe tuesday I get to see the proof poking around tribe feeling whimsical about the old days of tribe...

Mr. Tobias, The Dali Lama. Mr Dali Lama, Mr. Tobias

pedroveracio — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 21:27:02 GMT

Tob's father wrote this piece about this last weekend's event, "Unsung Heroes of Compassion," where our little Tobikin Skywalker MET & was celebrated by the Dali Llama for his work in Cambodia. I think, perhaps... this is a moment to step back, and take a look at things. Perhaps, our unsung heroes should be sung, n'est pas? http://tinyurl.com/cctkwz spelling error fixed. yuck. I hate me when I can't spell. Lama, not Llama. Thank You Mr. Barnaby. Sadly... don't think I can fix the error on a listing... =/

new idea

pedroveracio — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 23:21:05 GMT

mucho funo

proof

pedroveracio — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 18:30:27 GMT

squinting @ a proof just when I thought I was done more... always more to do...

the little tank that could

pedroveracio — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 20:22:51 GMT

just finished resurrecting the flash-animation web-version of the book with Mr. Caribou Slim, listening to the little kids next door hunting for Easter eggs. http://wildpoets.com/home.html Now ve vait unt zee if ze print quality ist goot I'm sooooo stoked that this is all working out... looks better than I could have hoped for. but hey- 90% of idiocy and deranged lunacy is work. the hard part is over.

endings and beginnings

pedroveracio — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 19:08:16 GMT

an update on things: short and sweet. -I graduated. Had to fight for months with administrators, build a case, escalate it up to the dean, won. was quite dramaful and not-very-fun and I was looking at the prospects of being stuck for another six months to a year, tires spinning in the mud over a lousy, administrative technicality. but I won. weee. -OMW Cambodia. BRT. Teach English, work with charities, thinkin' a year or two. maybe more. I need to be out in the world and writing. -Finalizing print formatting for Baby Tank. Going the self-publishing print-on-demand route. Would I prefer a proper, old school brick and mortar publisher? yes. But I don't want to spend years collecting rejection slips in a shoebox. I'd rather be out and about, doing my thing in Cambodia or wherever the fates take me. And if people like it, welp, it'll be there for like twelve bucks or so. Yes- I will market it. But I don't want to put the thumbscrews on anyone and rely on what they call, the "pocket market" i.e., friends and family. -Tobe's dam was built. Rains came. Happy children swimming everywhere. Elephants, trapeze artists, fishing boats, thousands of happy children w/ faces upturned for the camera. -Wild Poets is back. We are the ping-pong phoenix. Which, after 8 years off and on- just gotta take things in stride. Poetry collectives well, it's the nature of the beast. But... writing lots. having a good time w/ it. http://www.wildpoets.com/ -Rock garden assembled w/ tulips & bamboo. Now on to the deck, weather permitting. -O goin' to the chapel and he's goooonnnna get married... Hopefully we'll have a group of people coming up from LA. I'd like to see everyone before I go. Tobe would like to see everyone before he goes. O would like to see everyone before he goes. we're um... going. to riff off of Gaiman- "I'll put the chairs on the tables, turn out the lights, and lock the universe behind me as I leave." because really, it is the winding down and ending of one life, and the starting of another. for O most definitely, for me most definitely, and Tobe- in many ways he was the first one out the door quite a while ago. to put it another way guy in china told me "I had to close up shop. Finish my affairs stateside. Tie things up, and go live out in the world for a while." same same much love hopefully more later but busy good busy sweeping the floor letting the last guy nurse his last drink wiping down the bar counting out the register etc click a brief irony maybe worth mentioning is that maybe in some ways since I'll be finally free and writing more I'll be on the other side of the world but closer in a sense

the stupid bigots win

pedroveracio — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 19:38:22 GMT

8 passes so while we march forward with new hopes and optimism w/ a new, true blue president who has both a mandate from the masses and a mandate from the world- those snarky bigots are tucking in their children, brainwashing them with the arrogant notion that they're mainlining the holy spirit that they can do no wrong reading to them the literal truth of noah's arc priming them for another day where they can pick on the kid w/ two moms or two daddies. lights out & a prayer and off to the next room where they @#(& like angry bunnies it's probably already cliche' proud to be an american, ashamed to be a californian just venting. we'll get there- eventually. but it looks like there's gonne be a whole new generational round of bigots and their spawn. more martyrs, harvey milk style, more bullshit from the hateful pews. god damn america.

the meaning of life

pedroveracio — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 16:49:39 GMT

is, to rearrange matter years and years ago... my old scoutmaster told me that one while we were loading up the folding chairs onto the back of a truck after my friend's wedding that said, not much to report or say. life goes on. ch2 is up... ch3 as well but I'm still working out the kinks. everything was working smoothly but now youtube isn't recognizing my file formats for the newer chapters. ch2 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwgS_ZlXWwA and 3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqWrJGTgZqk after so much damned serious writing this spring, it *is* a nice little break going back to something goofy. even if for me, it's painfully old. I did this work *years* ago... so it's strange. but fun. blame kamp. they inspired me to get the little shitkicker back online. ohyeah and once again, day 2 of quitting smokes. wurd. ohyeah and I need someone who speaks arabic. need tutorials on pronunciation. weee.

Baby Tank Cinematic Debut Chapter 1

pedroveracio — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 20:21:10 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_RBOtyaie0 ch2 is uploaded and will be ready shortly...

quitting smokes day one, cambodian karaoke whorehouse blues

pedroveracio — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 22:24:57 GMT

was doing really good there for a while. actually took up running for a couple days. after so many years of smoking I can still run an eight minute mile. macho macho me. was running every day... of course I would blackout halfway through and I kind of flop my way through the last half of a mile looking like the scarecrow in the wizard of oz, just sort of flailing myself along but hey. it's a mile. in the rain. in my soggy chinese army shoes. woot. a friend sent me this picture of me singing karaoke. I was very drunk. I think I was singing Natalie Umbruglia's "Torn" Got signed off on all of my paperwork for a degree in writing. The man shook my hand and said, "congratulations" and everything. It's good news but I'm almost certain that they'll never actually give me a degree. They'll figure something out with the GE's. Meaning I have to stay in SF probably another six months to a year. anyhow. freaked out. got drunk. sucked down a whole pack of marlboros. long story--no story, really. just stupid stress stuff with school. that and I need to find a place & a job but you can't get one without having the other and- blah. anyhow. I feel poopie. it'll work out. happy thoughts. kittens n' sunshine.

day 4, photos, the list

pedroveracio — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 07:39:11 GMT

going through dvd's of the pics are making me misty. reposting pics from zhongdian/shangrila because over there, the speeds on the computers were so bad I was only able to post a couple. so here's too many: http://picasaweb.google.com/plutonoodle/Shangrila anyhow- getting misty. es true... you remember the good. not the bad. you remember that you were cold, but you don't feel the cold per se. quitting smokes this time around doesn't seem like such a big deal. an experience thing, maybe. all of the lessons I picked up the first time quitting--doesn't seem like I have to go through them again. feels like just where I left off last time, in a sense. the list: (and advice is most welcome.) school work apt save money go back to Cambodia or somewhere else. all I know is that being home doesn't feel like home anymore. not sure that anywhere feels like home. was talking to a guy who travels. sorry to repeat myself (maybe) but he's been on the road for years and he said, "just decided, I want to go live in the world for a while. and anywhere that's home isn't the world. so you go back. close up shop. make our arrangements, and then go." which is how I feel. you give up the security--the house, the car, the quest for love, that whole American future for something else. it isn't better, just different. but then, coming back--to close up shop--I still need to do the whole apt/job thingy. which is stressful--since I've been closing up shop in starts and fits for a few years now. Leaving big gaping holes in my resume. From the General Motors Office to Construction. From the nice apartment overlooking the whole damn city to years of couch surfing. and all of it leads to... where? china? south america? africa? india? to do what, exactly? for whom? and of how will I be of service? am I just trading one cult for another? the cult of the cubicles for the chinese english teacher's mafia? (they really are a self-described "mafia") anyhow, no answers. only the list. school, work, apt, save money, go back to Cambodia still decompressing. still looking three times across the street before walking because the traffic here is so damned slow--not the *stream* of motorcycles that just flows around you while you do the slow-walk. still marveling at how I can drink the tap water. marveling at a refrigerator full of food. anyhow. rambling. tired. day four, going strong. things will work out. just waiting for my body/mind to come back around to this side of the world.

quitting ciggies day one, amulets, charms, and luck

pedroveracio — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 06:47:43 GMT

Photo: left side: bracelet from cambodia, bought from a street child. bought ten of them for a dollar. distributed them to my backpacker drinking buddies. wearing the bracelet meant you were part of "Team Camel" Backpacker/Karaoke Masters Upper left side: bracelet given to me by Kautarina--amazing lady I traveled with in China for a bit. We got snowed in up in Zhongdian. one evening she just tied it to my wrist. I noticed--whenever I would do something wrong, one of the little shells on it would fall off. traveling makes you superstitious. Middle Top: Protective bag of sage from Mama Naxi in Lijiang. Wore it the whole time. Upper Right: (cropped out. bad photo, sorry) bracelet tied by Cambodian mine victim. kept falling off for some reason. Lower Right: Thai Marlboro. Usually the pictures are worse. Center: Chinese cigarettes. last one. although--I think the script is lao. on the backside in english it says, 'made in lao' so I must have picked up the pack in lao. yesterday would have been day one but around midnight give or take tripping out on american television- "celebrity detox with dr. drew" vs. "mythbusters" and "speeders" I dug through my bags and found this old pack of chinese cigarettes I had been lugging around since laos and nestled deep down there an old one had it loved it hmm... maybe I'm stupid trying to cram jetlag and quitting into the same box finding an apt and a job, starting school again in less than a week but hmm... there's that book that Natalie suggested, something like, 'how to quit and have fun' trouble being even if I do read it I've never been the type to really believe my own thoughts all I know is that I need to stop some sort of vague urge--simply tired of being this way tired of being tired all the time all I really hope- is that I haven't already committed myself to a shitty, early death bitch moan, bitch moan. this morning I wanted to kill but coffee got me through it. now, wine. trading the liver for the lungs for a little while. I'm too Buddhist to believe in myself. Believing in myself would be egotistical. but... it must simply be done for things to move forward. can't even put good words to it or explain why. still wearing two rings, two bracelets, two necklaces. but it feels so damned safe here, slowly the little charms drop away. that and, maybe the typical American fear of standing out. traveling, you get tired of being an oddity all the time--it's a blessing simply to walk down the street, barely worth notice. so many mirrors here. too many. baku farang.

home

pedroveracio — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 05:21:33 GMT

oop. back in Cali. had my first nice, hot shower since yangshuo. cats. family. sleep. then one hell of a lot of shit to do. oop. makin' a list.

Cambodian Soccer Rules

pedroveracio — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 13:31:45 GMT

I am thinking about Uncle Frank. Someone who I love but barely know. He is lying there, on his way out, looking like someone that King Midas had touched and there is something I wish I could say to him or hear what he would have to say to me. A face I saw a few times, but mainly a voice on the phone. I remember our conversations. How similar we were in many ways. The ties of blood. I wish he could see the things I am seeing through my eyes. He is in my heart and in my thoughts. I hope I have the chance to talk to him one more time. Had a late night last night. Met up again with Mika--the guy from Sweden who I traveled with in Vietnam. Swapped road stories, talked about the various other travelers we keep running into. The Canadian couple--the lady I gave the vest to--they're around here somewhere. The Belgian couple--the ones who saw us hiking down the beach in Vietnam and showed us Saigon Cafe--they're somewhere in Cambodia as well. Little details- I had left Saigon two days earlier than Mika. The lady at the guest house lied to Mika and told him that I had just ditched early in the morning and hadn't payed my bill. Snakey stuff. She didn't push the issue too hard though--when he called her on it. Called her out and told her it was her problem, not his--just one last little f*you from Vietnam in my book. As if I'd ditch out on paying for a $4 room in the middle of shitville. pardon my French. So I took Mika to "Zone One" and spent the rest of the night protecting him from the prostitutes. They were on him like flies. Somehow--maybe it is a look that I have--they know to stay away from me. One lady boy tried to give me a hug of sorts and when I shook her off, she gave me a solid punch on the arm. Crazy place. Hung over I spend the morning in the guesthouse. Catch up on some reading. Watch '300' while trying to teach the guesthouse kitten how to ride on my shoulders. Then one of the guys who runs the guest house invites me to soccer. See--I had moved out of the dorms into a *huge* $6 room in a nice, modern building next to what they call, "The Football Field." Every as the sun was setting there was always a soccer match going on right in front of my room. Big, clear field. Wooden posts with a dangling rope delineating the 'goal.' Small mango trees protected by little wooden fences delineating out of bounds. Just beyond the western goal post, the trash pile. There's a nice, black smoky little fire going every evening. So --I played. Played my butt off. As I type right now I'm absolutely covered in dirt. Have that macho, sweaty, 'to hell with washing' feeling. "I no good. don't laugh." I say "No worry. None of us good. We just do it for good health." On the field, after someone had kicked the ball past the burning trashpile and was hunting for it in the tall grasses and debris- Me standing next to my opponent, both of us sweating with the hands on the knees. ''you from siem riep?" "whole life" "always soccer field here?" "no... this used to be jungle. jungle. fields. mines. this whole neighborhood new. actually, this was a battleground." I don't know how we got onto the subject but we talked about a night of terror. About how one night the Kmer Rouge--1992--long since out of power but still waging guerilla warfare, had staged an attack on the area. People fled their houses, just running, not knowing where to go. The guy emerges from the weeds with the soccer ball. "Now, Football." He says. "Yes. Now football. No more talk of these things." He nods. We go back to playing. Tripping each other in the dust. Me playing hard and dirty because I don't know any other way to play. I make a couple saves with my magic, green Chinese army shoes that I haven't worn in quite a while. strange life. A guy itching to play waves me over and I let him take my spot. I spend the sunset snapping photos. Learn that they're all drivers. Every one of them. The guys that sit on the street corners and always call out. Guys who I walk past every day in untold numbers--sitting there--just waiting for a job. To be fair--like most places. But here, I got to play soccer with them. The sun set. The mosquitoes came out. The guest house people liked the pictures I had taken and so I copied them over to their computer. Got to sit there behind the front desk as the backpackers came and went, asking about their bill, asking about their laundry, asking about transportation from here to there and so on. Got to sit there covered in dirt, fiddling with the computer, feeling macho. Upstairs had a beer. Listened to the Beatles "The Long and Winding Road" and "Let it Be" and thought about Uncle Frank and then knew I had to go write this. Rambly, maybe no point. But I had to share it. Today I played soccer in a former minefield with the moto-drivers and thought about someone I love.

landmines, gechos

pedroveracio — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 08:30:27 GMT

The last few days have been a blur: a list of sorts: played hide and seek amongst thousand year old ruins got schooled in pool by some of the locals went to the landmine museum- those of you who have dropped me some $--I want you to know--most of it went to the salaries of men who go out into the fields and disarm landmines. today- went to 'green gecho'--an ngo that works with street kids. just a few years ago they were on the streets sniffing glue, begging, pickpocketing--destined for lives of god knows what. but--check the pics. (album has been updated... yup... more pics, sorry) http://picasaweb.google.com/plutonoodle/HumanTranslation spoke at length with their director. they need an admin person--right up my alley. right now they're helping the street kids' families start up businesses but don't have much going on in the way of implementation and follow up. I'm not Bill Gates or anything but hey--maybe all of those years sitting in cubicles could be of some good use... so when I get back to SF I'm considering the following: (loose game plan) CELTA (the TEFL course I had enrolled in doesn't amount to much. a lot of people don't even pay attention to it when considering candidates)--but with better accredation I could go anywhere, teach anywhere. sadly, TEFL certification just doesn't command any respect. Grant Writing: If I can just figure out a way of getting grant money to go back out here and do admin for some of these NGO's--then everyone happy. Have some research to do. finish degree. three classes. no stress. jump through the hoops. work my butt off. save up money. get back out to cambodia. so for all of my whining and travel blues, things are coming around. I went out looking for direction--eliminated a lot of options--and something tells me that if I can pull things off proper, Cambodia is just the start. Sorry I don't have too much more to say. Long day. Educational day. But inspiring. Good. check the pics and scroll down to me playing with the cute little buggers. realize that--if it weren't for the NGO they'd be like the girl that just walked past the internet cafe. ratty hair. malnourished. covered in filth. digging through the trash for recyclables. barefoot with a burlap sack. a future with nothing but glue sniffing, prostitution, and inevitable HIV. http://picasaweb.google.com/plutonoodle/HumanTranslation well in all honesty--they used to be those kids. but now they have hope.

hope and the dam

pedroveracio — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 04:01:21 GMT

I travel hard for nearly four months, skipping through countries, looking for connections with people- grounding moments--maybe a place where I would be happy to teach english. Honestly- it's been frustrating. I'm glad I've been all to these places but the connections have been slim. Beautiful places to visit, sometimes a good moment here and there, but- just having talked to so many people who work and live either as teachers or as NGO people in these places--you see in their eyes just sort of this lost expression. Like they're there and going through the motions of something but deep down--they know and you know that they aren't really making any kind of difference. just waking up. need to get some coffee in my system to write this proper. won't do it justice trying to right now but- spent the last few days in pnomh penh and siem riep hanging out with jaded backpackers. drink some, karaoke some, see some ruins, snap some pictures. some moments of fun here and there but, not much real life. hanging out with backpackers, I think I've learned more about Israel, Sweden, Australia, The Netherlands, France, Ireland, etc... than the places where I actually was. language barriers and backpacker enclaves. a strange sort of sheltered life full of lounge chairs, cheap coffee, tour buses, young westerners fresh out of college collecting stamps on their passports. anyhow- yesterday tobe's project coordinator took me out to the dam. riding out into the styx in the back of a pickup truck. kind of place where people are still using ox-pulled wagons and when the truck drives by, little kids run out of these little stilt/ramshackle/banana leaf shacks to wave. and... holy crap. bulldozers. dust. workers hauling dirt. the thing is huge. a friend of mine is resurrecting a thousand-year old resevoir on the outskirts of some of the oldest, most beautiful temples known to man. clean water. fishing. irrigation. hope in a place full of good people who have been *so* screwed over by history & circumstance it's not even funny. tired/not enough coffee so i'll try to write this again proper in a bit. took lots of notes and pictures--but the long and the short of it is that they took me to an orphanage and I got to run around playing volleyball with some of the most adorable kids ever. the cure for road blues and travel-jadedness: teaching a cambodian orphan how to flash gang signs. getting the low down from Bouny* on places where I could possible spend my remaining time out here volunteering. *(Tobe's project coordinator--and btw--the man has a gift for finding the right people. Words can't describe my gratitude for the day I had yesterday.) and honestly part of me just wishes I could scrap it all, find a gig out here. coming home to san francisco fog, cubicles & finishing a meaningless degree vs. working with real need. real problems. Need a day or two to sort things out. wish I could articulate it right. but- hrmm... here: we visitied a thousand-year old temple shattered by bombs and overground by bodhi trees. a former foxhole dug into the ground being used as a trash bin. shards of old pottery--kick aside a piece of dirt and there's an old jar of someone's ashes. we snapped some pics and talked and hiked down the hill back to the truck. pulling out onto one of the dusty roads was a truck filled with men- only could catch glimpses of their faces through the wooden boards. "Those are the heros" said Bouny "eh?" "They're de-miners." And later at the bar she points out two women who work with sex-trade victims. Over at the other table is the lady who started an NGO that works with street children. So on and so on. Kicking myself for not getting to Cambodia sooner. Maybe it's good- I covered a lot of ground. Saw a lot of places. But when a place clicks with you, it clicks. I have two more days on my pass for Ankor Wat but honestly- screw it. I'd rather just talk to the NGO people and see what the possibilities are. Maybe play some volleyball with the kids. Take notes. Write something. Do something that matters.

pnomh penh

pedroveracio — Wed, 26 Dec 2007 04:03:12 GMT

first round of pics are up: http://picasaweb.google.com/plutonoodle/PnomhPenh

I heart pnomh penh

pedroveracio — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 08:32:20 GMT

arrived last night. the "six hour bus" was actually twelve or so. someone remind me at some point to do a calculation--"how much total time has pete spent on airplanes, buses, trains, tuk tuks, rickshaws, etc in the last three months...?" I'm very curious what the answer is. feeling pretty beat up but--damn anyhow- hot. dusty place. too hot and dusty for any other adjectives. but- I think I love Cambodia. Worlds apart from Vietnam. Tobe was right--there *is* a magic to these people. Just some sort of innate goodness. An honesty to the ready, quick smile. Beggars, amputees, rough-poverty--but there's a goodness. Can't put my finger on it. Right now just chilling out on the lake, listening to backpackers noodle with their guitars. Already went out and did a little photosafari in this neighborhood built on planks stretching out and over the lake. threw around candy, took pictures of the kids, felt like santa. uploading soon. tried to get shots of but failed: (and so you probably won't see my bad attempts--until I try again of course) monkeys in the power lines elephant in the park assorted maimed everyone man squeezing out the juice of the sugarcane to make this really cool drink coca-cola in a plastic bag dusty, bumpy roads + beautiful rice fields + houses on stilts + cows much love- p

The Artist Formerly Known As Saigon

pedroveracio — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 05:46:13 GMT

Saigon is loud. sit and have a cup of coffee and (we counted) you get bugged to buy cigarettes, postcards, zippo lighters, fake books, quail eggs, motorcycle taxi, bicycle tour, or assorted fruits at an average rate of 22 times per 30 minutes. interesting mini-story this morning is about dogs. apparently dog-theft is big business. traveler: "There was this little kid with a puppy down near the market. one moment, puppy is there. next minute, puppy gone. they use the motorcycle to steal..." me: "oh that's so wrong." traveler: "the guesthouse we were staying in, they bought a guard dog to protect the place. but they stole the guard dog." haven't had much luck with the technology side of things but here's three new albums- mika- the swede, shot these: http://picasaweb.google.com/yogaboy4893 (lots of pete pics! woot!) then these of course, from the main http://picasaweb.google.com/plutonoodle http://picasaweb.google.com/plutonoodle/MuiNe http://picasaweb.google.com/plutonoodle/HCMC ok I've been camping out here badly crunching down pics and uploading for a couple hours. gotta get out- see some sights. maybe taking a bus to Cambodia tomorrow morning. pnomh penh is six hours away by bus--three days by boat. still trying to decide...