Home About Bibliography Contact Fiction Links News Ramblings
JWR 4.34 - Where in the World Is Pumpkinhead? - Page 2
Go to the beginning of Pumpkinhead's voyage: Page 1 Or jump to a different page: Page 3 Page 4
Sent: Friday, November 25
Subject: Iran so far away
After all the excitement in Iraq yesterday, I was hoping for a low-key kind of day. You know: put on some Coltrane, draw a bath with some salts, fire up a fattyÖ
Instead of being able to do that, I was brought to a palace in Iran where I was thoroughly searched. They found all my hash on my person and I think they were going to cut my hands off or lock me up or lock up my cut off hands, but one of my handlers talked to the guards and they confiscated all my hash. And then they let me through.
My handlers keep calling me ďBuddy.Ē I think itís pretty funny. Anyhow, I was issued visitor credentials and led into a big room where I was stuck waiting for hours. It was a lot like the airport: lots of interesting smells. I tried to make small talk with a bunch of the dudes in the room, but it seemed nobody wanted anything to do with me. I asked everyone if they wanted to blaze one up after the show (or whatever it was we were doing there) but they all kept giving me the cold shoulder. Also, it was a total sausage fest. No girls at all, man. Even the wait staff that brought in water and tea was all dudes.
I donít think these folks over here like women. I donít mean theyíre gayóin fact, even though I seen dudes holding hands on the street, I get the impression theyíll kill a gay dude. What I mean is they donít care about the women. Which I understand, but I think they take it a little too far.
Eventually we were told to take a seat and it was clear the main event was about to begin. A bit later in walks MaachmoodÖMahmoodÖMachmud Amadinajohn? The frigginí president of Iran. Iím all, like, ďOh, shit! Itís the dude that tortured the hostages back in í79. This moífoí is pimp tough.Ē Much to my surprise, his handshake was a bit limp.
So he gave a long-winded speech. I say it was long-winded because I donít speak Persian (or whatever) and there were no translators about. I was bored. Iím still bored. I canít wait to get the fuck outta here.
Iíll tell you one thing, though: those Iranians sure do have nice rugs.
Sincerely with the Grace of God,
PS: This leg of the trip isnít turning out to be what I expected. I mean, it started out cool enough with the riot, but everything else (especially my hash getting took) has effin sucked.
Sent: Saturday, November 26, 2011
Holy shit, these people are no fun. I couldnít get out of Iran quick enough. I thought Iíd be happier anywhere else. Today Iím in Afghanistan: the land of opium. Also the land of proving-me-wrong. And what do these idiots do with it? They burn the fields and put the farmer in prisonóif heís lucky. Lots of times they just kill him. And you canít see any of the chicks here either. Just like in Iran, they have this thing that covers their entire body. Itís actually worse than Iran because the whole face is usually covered, too.
So, I was told Iíd finally get to meet some of the main guys in that organization I was telling you about. WellÖtake a look at the pic I sent. We took, like, twenty pictures and someone always blinked. This was the best we could do. The dude on the right looks like heís high and has a joint in his hand, but he isnít! And he doesnít! Heís just holding his AK like a yag. Iím starting to think these fellas are losers.
Also, itís not a bad camera. Itís truly that drab and grainy over here.
They really like shitty, outdated American music for some reason. Iím all: my girl wants to party all the time, too, but I donít need a 24/7 soundtrack to that effect.
I know I said I couldnít wait to get out of Iran, but I really, really, really canít wait to get the shit out of Afghanistan.
Only by Grace,
Sent: Sunday, November 27, 2011
Subject: Red eye
Let's start a riotÖa riot!
Ingredients necessary for yours truly to get involved in a riot:
1. Resentment toward my handlers
2. The desire to take up the struggle against the tyranny of the racist, fascist, white, minority regime
3. A gas mask
4. The availability of, but inaccessibility to plenty of cheap heroin
Today Iím in Pakistan. I hope Iím done with the Ďstan countries. If I am, I went out with a bang.
So, I was just walking through town looking for some of that heroin I mentioned above and, suddenly, all these people come out of nowhere. I can tell theyíre mad. The signs and burning effigies also provide clues to this effect.
It takes, like, no time for the police to mobilize and start their crackdown. They bring in everything includingÖtear gas. But I was ready.
Everyone else runs back and I pull out my handy gas mask I picked up after my Iraq excursion. I look to my left and I see some dude standing with me. I was all, ďYeah, man!Ē He didnít speak English. Whatever. Did you see that pic I sent? Itís like something out of a movie!
We stood shoulder to shoulder as brothers.
Until the police, fitted with their own gas masks, rushed us with Billy clubs and tasers.
I think Iíd rather be in one of those Occupy Whatnot protests.
We escaped incarceration.
Love, hugs, kisses, and may God be with us,
Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011
This place is so gross. I canít evenóI donít even know how to explain.
I left Pakistan and crossed into India. Supposedly this is a spiritual land. Uh huh. We visited the Temple of the Rat. Itís a temple that overrun by RATS! Yeah, birds, too! But nobody cares. The people put out gigantic bowls of milk for the rats and they all line up along the bowlís perimeter and drink it up. This is also a big touristy place, supposedly, but I couldnít wait to get out of there. I could barely hold still long enough to take a picture, but me and this other tourist-lady took one together. I think she shared my sentiments because you can see we both have the same expression of ďWhat the hell am I doing here?Ē on our faces in the picture.
Also, they make you take your shoes off in the temple. Double gross. I mean, if I wore shoes, I wouldnít have taken them off.
And this is just the freaking temple Iím talking about. Iím not talking about anything else! This is a temple.
I was offered drugs here several times, but thereís no way Iím going to do any in this disgusting land. I donít care if I scratch all my skin off. If you canít trust your drugs not to contain rat shit (or any kind of shit), what hope is there?
I miss the tang of mace when compared to India.
I just pray the next place I visit will have decent toilets in which to relieve myself.
PS: No reply received
from you yet. I guess you were off for the holiday and weekend. I can
expect an email tomorrow.
Sent: Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Subject: Ching Chong Ping Pong
Ni hao, Wendy!
Iím in China. I have to say, I like it a lot better than India. Human right violations-schuman rights violations. This place is so cool. Iíve been hanging out with some giant pandas since I arrived.
I feel like Iíve been accepted as one of the panda pack. I say this because as I was chilling with the bears, this Chinese approached. The pandas let him get real closed before they mauled him to death. Pandas are bad ass moí fakkas. People think theyíre cute and cuddly, but they are viciousórip your head off without a second thought.
But, still, Iím having a good time. Bamboo doesnít taste too bad, either.
This is like a vacation. AlsoÖIíve been chasing the dragon all day.
I had this other Chinese take my picture with my new bear familyóI think it was the same Chinese that took my pic back in Poland.
PS: Still no email from you. I guess you were busy Monday. Iím sure Iíll see one later today.
Sent: Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Subject: Curiouser and curiouser
Okay, this place takes the cake. Iím in the Democratic Peopleís Republic of North Korea.
I met Kim Jong-Il, the Supreme Leader of the country. At first I thought he was the Bono in a Korean U2 cover band because he was wearing sunglasses inside, but heís the real deal. He likes to be called ďDear Leader.Ē
Did you see the pic I sent? Dear Leader wanted to do a Reservoir Dogs-type slow motion walking scene. I tried to tell him that he was doing it wrong. ďYou have too many people doing it,Ē I complained. ďYou need to take video, not a still,Ē I insisted. ďStop looking at the camera and smiling,Ē I begged, even though I was doing it, too.
He kept saying, ďYou Mista Pink.Ē
Finally, I just went with it. ďWhy am I Mr. Pink?Ē I asked without energy.
Dear Leader smiled and continued running lines, ďBecause you a faggot, that why.Ē
ďWhy canít we pick our own color? I want to be Mr. Purple. That sounds good to me. Iíll be Mr. Purple.Ē
ďYou no Mista Purple. Other man on other job Mista Purple. You Mista Pink!Ē Dear Leader just cracked himself up over this.
Yeah, great stuff. Nobody quotes Reservoir Dogs anymore.
In other news, I saw three dead bodies lying on the ground during my time here and there is no electricity at night.
In His grip,
PS: Iím getting the impression that you arenít willing to write me back.
Sent: Thursday, December 01, 2011
Subject: Tokyo Drift!
I am in the land of Japan. I thought Japan would all be shoji screens and geisha girls, but this place is like the future. You can buy anything from a vending machine and the trains are really fast.
I met a new friend. His name is Pedobear and heís just a chill dude. Iím sending a picture of us in one of the busiest crosswalks in the world.
Okay, yeah, this place is boring. Because drugs are so limited and so expensive here, Pedobear and I have been drowning ourselves in sake. Truth be told, Iím so over Asia. The pandas in China aside, itís sucked big time.
I donít know where Iím going next. Maybe I should just go back to the pandas.
Do you miss me? I miss you. I forgive you for narcing me out.
May God keep you in his warm and comforting embrace,
Sent: Friday, December 02, 2011
Subject: Gourd-on Lightfoot
Iíve done a full one-eighty. Iím in Indonesia, on the island of Papua, but Iím in the highlands and Iím staying with the Yali tribe. Theyíre pygmy cannibals.
Even though Iím not human (and they donít really practice cannibalism so much anymore), Iím still a little concerned. Not that they havenít been anything but gracious and generous hosts, but the tough part to get used to is the traditional ďclothingĒóI donít know what to call itóthe men wear is a penis gourd.
As you may guess, the gourd is a cousin of mine. I felt a bit uneasy when they harvested a gourd especially for me, heated it up over the fire, dug out its innards, laid it out to dry and then presented it to me so I could wear it.
I gotta say: itís more comfortable than youíd think.
Iím sending a picture of me hanging out with some of the Yali men. I have to be honest: we tried to take the picture several times, but they kept messing it up. The one I sent, I think they saw a dog off to the left or something.
But this place is beautiful. Itís about as far from Tokyo as you can get. Itís nice to be able to calmly reflect on things and the only sounds are birds and a few kids playing.
Also, they make this beverage thatís essentially fermented spitÖand itís fantastic. Itís somewhat hallucinogenic, too. I was talking to this dude for, like, an hour before someone came and got me and showed me that it was a tree.
PS: Iím pretty high right now.
Sent: Saturday, December 03, 2011
Guess where I am. Iíll give you a hint: itís a country and a continent.
Give up? Itís Australia!
Itís summer here. Did I mention that? Itís summer and itís like 100 degrees or something.
I spent much of the day at this big, red rock in the middle of nowhere. Itís called Uhura andÖwell, that it. Itís a rock in the middle of the outback. I met this nice hippy couple here who are pretty coolótheyíve been sharing their weed with me, which is nice.
We had a Chinese take a picture of us together and Iím sending it along. Arenít they a handsome couple? (Kind of strange that they were also taking a picture of themselves as we were having our picture taken, but, whatever.) Theyíre locals. As you can see, the sunís going down and the temperature dropped to, like, seventy, so they had to get on their sweaters and stuff.
I do have to say, I like this part of the world. Itís been very picturesque and peaceful. No riots. Not a lot of terrorists. Hallucinogenics aplenty. I think I could just stay here foreverÖ
In Jesusí love, until He comes,
Sent: Sunday, December 04, 2011
Subject: A bird, a fruit, a people
Iím in New Zealand. The people are an awful lot like Australians except they get super fucking mad if you say that. They like to be called Kiwis. Thatís weird. Itís like people from the Netherlands being called Dutch. I never understood that.
But this place is way cool looking. I can see why the filmed those nerd movies here. Iím sending a picture of me in front of one of the houses they build for the hobbit village. They never tore them down. Itís like that big dome they built for The Truman Show. Must be less costly to let it sit there.
Some of the locals told me that several hobbit actors were killed during filming when a pack of wild sheep trampled them to death. You can see how big the sheep in the picture is compared to the door on the house, so itís gotta be true. Besides, I think this place is haunted. I feel like Iím being watched and followed.
Anyways, Iím more excited about this place because itís where they also filmed Xena: Warrior Princess. I hope Renee OíConnor still lives here. Iím gonna try to find her.
Cheerfully in Christ,
Continue on Pumpkinhead's journey: Page 3 Or jump around: Page 1 Page 4
Copyright © 2011 John Lemut