LOOSE MOTIONS AND HALLUCINATIONS

El Camino, A Breaking Bad Movie, actually ends in Bakal 2 where Stranger Things happened to Dave Chappelle who originally intended to resettle in Alaska as a Mr. Driscoll, the The Sandman of Starcourt Mall, the deepthroat of the Bird Revelation which, with unequalled Equanimity, tamed the Russian Mind Flayer with Sticks and Stones, a helm, a pouch of sand and a ruby Jesse Pinkman stole from Morpheus.

Calliope though is the MILF of Hawkins and The Closer Jenny Halsey moves to the Schutztaffel, the more she looks like Princess Ahmanet's pussy, moist and warm from being wrapped too long in a tight boxer, like The Mummy from the Valley of the Dead penises where a Tuesday offering of Pakistani nimko, Korean samgyeopsal and barbecued orange egg from Bakal 2 won The Kennedy Center Mark Twain Prize.  

It was diarrhea or Montezuma's revenge that begot a Sunday brunch of lechon and pizza in Cabanatuan but What's in a Name if four sessions of Home2Home riding can bring the Phantom Biker to 41 countries in 761 days across 43,600 kilometers and 63 flat tires?

BREAKING BANGKOK

It's always the third table from the breakfast buffet near the glass windows, always between an interracial couple with a religious preference to the salad bar and a lanky white man clutching his usual bowl of cereal and cookies, and always while a petite Asian mature is picking fallen orchid petals in the poolside, her unintedend seduction a welcome distraction from the morning tedium of the usual ham and cheese, sunny side ups, stringy bacon, butter-and-jam smeared croissants and a cup of latte that will be reincarnated as the customary mid-day smorgasbord of pizza, spicy salad, Indian food, Thai soup and orange juice.         

Chatrium Residence Sathon was built with the $9,720,000 of the last barrel and haunted by the ghosts of Hank, Todd and Walter White who shyly melted into the shadows as Jesse Pinkman, disguised as the hotel manager, led his guests to a welcome dinner of fried chicken and sea bass, vegetable stew and salad, and a rained out view of the Chao Phraya River from the 5th floor of Icon Siam between nights of som tam, grilled pork neck and oyster omelette from Mustafa's favorite place, and street noodles and spicy pork salad from parts previously unknown.   

And for three days, 9 countries gathered at the Spring Ballroom to watch the last season of Breaking Bad and the last episode of Better Call Saul where on the last day, it was announced that Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman/Gene Takavic  who sold cinnabon and stolen identities tested positive and will be quarantined for 86 years while in Room 3095, a case of hypoglycemia and 5 negatives were reported. 

But there was no miracle at the Suvarnabhumi Airport whose lounge served the same menu after more than two years of the pandemic, almost like Chatrium's monotonous breakfast buffet but unlike the pretentious dinakdakan and grilled tuna belly from Gerry's Grill that is easly topped by the IBP's version, nor the igado and dinardaraan at the Sidcor Sunday Market that reminded me of the weddings and funerals a long time ago in Almaguer...   

THE UPSIDE DOWN

The Gray Man is Target Number One and as the Demogorgon, Sierra Six had him filleted into a sashimi of niluyaang manok for the Tuesday dinner of the Thursday Group who on Friday night had Daniel Leger fry the Mind Flayer into orange eggs and fresh Vienna sausages. 

Stranger Things did happened in Bangkok between the 215th and 225th days. 

 

There was Will Byers' disappearance at the SIDCOR Sunday Market where Eleven and Kali bought a bulk of  carnitas, barbecued brisket taco, halal chicken and rice, yaka mein, fried poke and souse that will be repackaged as Street Food USA. 

There was Horny Nancy who had a threesome with Steve and Jonathan in a field of rotting pumpkins where the Phantom Biker spent 6 mornings chasing Balong's enrollment in the secret tunnels of Hawkins that leads to Munoz and Talavera.  

And there was a disappointing paper-thin porkchop from Goodah that was redeemed by Rosanna's authentic igado just before PR 736 landed in Bangkok for a dinner of som tham with salted egg in our usual place...   

BOOSTED

And that would be with three of Bangkok's best beers --- a Singha premium lager on Monday in an upscale diner that served a passable omelette and a disappointing pork neck stir fry, an American-style Chang lager in the usual place on Tuesday with an amazing fried pork ribs topped with an ordinary Leo lager and superb grilled beef that could have been wonderful have I not overate and over-drank to conclude 1.5 days of frank PMU conversations and a bowling match of hologram pins felled by balls of frozen whiskey sour and mojito.     

Two weeks and 6 antigen self tests later, PR 731 ferried me back to Manila where Bulan and the citizens of Timog Avenue Never Stop Dreaming as reflected in the pre-pandemic crowd at Tipsy Pig where the tipsy sisig and tipsy gambas platter are not The Life and Legacy of Shimon Peres but a sober ginataang munggo with three slabs of bagnet and a forgettable squid al olio that tasted like a tin can.

In Bakal 2, Mr. White let Mike Ehrmantraut bleed to death while the Phantom Biker tried to recover two missed weeks with two days in the trail that was enough for a second booster shot, a birthday catch up on Saturday and a Breaking Bad reunion in Talugtug on Sunday as ASAC Hank finally realized that W.W. is in fact the elusive Heisenberg...

THE BANGKOK BIKE HEIST / LOST IN BANG KRACHAO

Flowers and leaves from Pak Khlong Talat adorn the songthaews with one reported casualty two nights after the welcome committee treated the distinguished delegates from Bosnia, the United Kingdom, Australia and South Africa to an overdose of Singha beer and grilled ruby fish. 

And that day stood out from a week of learning and unlearning, the ennui disruption that was punctuated by the sound of frying spring rolls, the silence of soap carvers and the colors of a lunch buffet that is not from kitchen of Albricias. 

On the last day of the second workshop, the 5th round of Covid detection tests came out negative to assure the delegation of the Philippines that the Bangkok surge has not caught up with neither of them, the end of quarantine and a trip to Uganda celebrated with a round of cold Chang beer with a footnote to those who have to leave.   

The Bangkok Bike Heist

But shit happened when Follow Me Bangkok Tours stole my Saturday bike ride that marooned me in the concrete jungle of Yaowarat where I search for the lost Half-Day Siam Boran Cultural Bike Tour in the pots and grills of street food stalls, in the disinfected water closet of Wat Worahiwan and the polished yard of Leng Buai Ia Shrine as free rice was being distributed, wondering if it is among the merchandise on sale at the crowded Chinese Market along Soi Yaowarat 11.

The futile search led me to Siam Paragon for an early lunch of crispy pork and Northern Thai sausage where a mysthical tea leaf pointed to Silom, to a stainless table top and plastic chair at the Kuay Teow Khae Convent where a fortune cookie at the bottom of its famous tom yum noodle jumbo said that redemption is at Som Tam Jay So's equally famous chicken wings and there, the Master of Salad told me to walk straight to the Chong Nonsi Skywalk then go home since Trip Advisor will be refunding the cost of the lost bike tour.

Lost in Bang Krachao

Sunday brought me to the Wat Bang Krachao Nok Pier, to a small boat with two other passengers that took us across the mighty Chao Phraya River to Bang Krachao where the tree spirits made me walk in circles and a mobile phone translated Thai into English that a biking couple said were actually prayers for the lost, and was subsequently delivered by a motorcycle taxi to an abandoned fresh seafood market where I was introduced to Bike No. 16, petite with slim wheels but sturdy enough for a long ride to the Wat Khan Lat School where the Bhumibol 2 Bridge pierce the heavens that for centuries have kept the Lat Pho Canal operational.

The island of course is is not really an island as well as the Bang Nam Pheung Floating Market that don't actually float like the barges moored at the Tha Luean Pier where I should have landed, but the cannabis nursery was real as well as the motorcycle taxi who got lost bringing me back to where I came, in the pier where I was the lone passenger of a small boat that rammed and raced a huge river barge before delivering me to the other side --- tired, sweaty, suburned and blissfully sore...