I was sleeping with my shoes on, under the mosquito net of a groovy Siamese island bungalow, when I had the most vivid, thorough and totally recallable death dream I've ever dreampt. Without hesitation, he gets behind me and buries the barrel of the gun in the hair on the back of my head. I feel him rooting around in my thick hair with the barrel for the perfect spot. Then I hear a loud crack and feel a sharp pain in my head and everything goes com- pletely black. I wake, stand up, and head for the local kitchen for fruit pancakes and a pineapple milkshake.
Any picture ever painted is by nature, complete andprecise.
I arrived there three separate times during my month long vacation in the land of King Rama the IXth. The first was blasting sun and smog, Black Sabbath's 'Children of the Grave' throbbing from a perfect sound system,throngs of wild dogs living in the streets. I'd started running with along the way. It was book store shopping, Me-Kong whiskey drinking and fake I.D.buying, international spectrum girl lusting and transexual sexual proposition avoiding. Thania week and a half earlier, one of which managed to fuck his girlfriend in the laid-back seat while it was dark and hethought we were sleeping.