Mark Konta Estoria VIII

From East Timor


How is everyone? How's life? More importantly, who took my spot as having the best Halloween costume this year? We're having a little Halloween bash out here ourselves, so if you don't hear from me in a while it's because the locals slaughtered a bunch of Americans because they thought we were evil spirits. I'll let you know how that works out.

So, not much new and exciting news out here - But I will be happy to tell you how I've been filling the time. Here are my most popular free time activities.

#1. Going to Timorese Weddings

You might think that people are lazy all day and every day in this country just so they could save up enough energy to go nuts whenever a "festa" comes rolling along. You might think that, but you'd be fucking wrong. The only thing more boring than staring at my wall for 8 hours is going to a party in this country. First you get dragged into a 100-degree tent, and then crammed next to a bunch of people that have a collective funk that is hard to describe. I think it would be like sitting in a huge dirty hamper inside a gym locker room. Then you sit for about an hour. Then you watch people eat. Then you sit for about 3 hours more. What are you supposed to do during this sitting time you ask... Not a Goddamn thing. If you thought I was a little spacey before, you have no idea what this country has done to my already existing day dreaming problem. I just sit and look off into space with drool coming out the side of my mouth, like I'm some kind of Autistic American reject. So, right around midnight is when the real fun starts -- the dancing. Really, the dancing is not that bad. It's a little like 7th grade when girls and boys run to different sides of the room whenever the song ends -- but you get used to it.

The real problem that you're left with for the remaining 7 hours of this party is the music. They pick from about 4 different horrible songs and play them over, and over, and over, and over again, until your ready to beat the bandleader to death with his super feedback microphone. The same four songs, and the same faulty microphone at every f-ing party you go to. It's either that wonderful selection of music, or if you're really cool, you listen to bad American 90's rock. The only thing better than a Firehouse and a Mr. Big reunion tour for the Timorese, would be an all access pass to Tony Labriola's C.D. collection. I was over at one of my friend's house, and this dude comes out and says, "I just put on my favorite CD. I think you will really enjoy it... their name... is Saigon Kick."

#2. Hanging Out With My Roommates

Yep, so I seem to have acquired a couple new roommates in my tin hot box. We don't talk that much, due to the fact that they are mice, but we still have a great time together. One of our new favorite games is this. They like to wait until I fall asleep, and then they slowly crawl up and into my bed, and then start nibbling on my feet. Then, what I like to do is - sit up immediately and start screaming like a four-year-old girl. Sometimes I like to throw things around the room aimlessly missing those tricky little rodents by about 15 feet. I got a tell ya, those mice sure are fun.

I've actually tried killing those little bastards for about a month now, but the only outcome has been proving that a mouse is smarter than I am. I had this rat poisoning that I gave to it, but I think it just made it stronger -- and now it's turned into some sort of Bionic rat. The first mouse has even brought a friend along -- and now the two of them run around my room like it's Disney land -- and just laugh at me. So, if any of you out there have any suggestions for killing Teenage Mutant Ninja Rats (I've named him Splinter), please let me know as soon as possible. Thank you.

#3. Joyriding in Mikrolets

I think that I've already told you guys about what the little busses are like out here, but I have to tell you again what's been happening on these hell rides. So far, my feet have been puked on, my shoulder has been puked on, and yes -- on one fine afternoon when I was leaning my head against an open window for rest, I was awoken quickly by a stream of vomit hitting me right between the eyes. I spent the rest of that ride telling the 80-year-old women who puked on me how much I hated her and her stupid nauseous country, in English.

My latest adventure was this. I saw this empty mikrolet coming around, and I was thinking, "Score, even if everyone is puking, I'll still have enough room for dodging capabilities." Once again, I thought wrong. I climbed aboard, and the reason there were only a few people on this bus was because the entire middle area had wood piled 3 feet high, and 3 or 4 people were lying on the bordering benches. The bad part about this was the deer lying on top of the wood. Well, not really a deer, more like half a deer. On top of this woodpile was the sawed off bottom half of a deer, that still had the intestines falling out of the open stomach. So, for 45 minutes I had to ride right next to a rotting deer carcass, and on those extra sharp turns, I was lucky enough to have the whole pile of flesh lean against me. I was thinking of just letting myself throw up all over these other dudes as some sort of a payback, but I held it in.

Letter Competition Updates

Kevin Kijewski / Donna Ogrentz (tied)
Ross Tornabene
Katie Mulrenin
Robin Hayes

Perfect Package:

Jimmy Gagliardi

Ok, That is all for now. Thank you for your attention. Happy Halloween,

Meet you at the crossroads,

Bone Thugs

(This sign off is courtesy of William Gudeman)


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