Well, friends, it’s time I admit why the posts have been few and far between. I discovered mushrooms. It’s because of mushrooms that I am here today and didn’t die of aversion at the Full Moon Party.

It was all that I had predicted and more. I will allow that it did have the redeeming quality of playing “My Girl Likes to party all the time,” but aside from that it was bollocks. Everyone from Pioneer Square was there and the mushroom shakes that night were as weak as piss after downing a Nalgene full of water. Picture that. Weak.

I realized that part of the problem was there were no Thai prozzies to dance with, just a whole heap of Western girls travelling to Koh Phan Ngan on their parents dime in order to get fucked by some muscle factory exhibiting movement that only seems like dancing after consuming about 2-3 buckets. And by this I mean about a fifth of whiskey and two or three Redbulls. I tried to drink the asshole away and just dance, but being groped somehow didn’t start resembling the fun of a roller coaster, which only left women to dance with. And those girls just oozing stupid to the point that I imagine they might be like those frogs with hallucinogenic properties in their skin; Don’t get too close to them or you might absorb some of the stupid. And so I had to leave the beach. I really can only dance to that “Apple Bottom Jeans” song 3 times in one evening. Luckily we left and went to a smaller enclave where we found some decent dance music and a more enjoyable dancing crowd. The highlight of the Full Moon Party was the discovery of roasted chicken sandwiches. One of the most amazing parts of the trip. Delicious. The rest was generic, as could be expected from anything on a beach that is marketed in any package deals. I’ve been tainted by getting to dance in Berlin with wicked people so having to fight my way around drunk Swedish girls and scrawny English boys trying to make out with me is surprisingly less fun than it sounds. Maybe starting to drink beer at 730 AM may have made me less excited to drink until 730 AM the next day.

The next two nights fully made up for this experience as I found myself nearly dying laughing as we discussed midget ninjas, how beer is served in England, and the new trend of serving ice cold cigarettes after consuming the famous shakes of mushroom mountain. What remained any semblance of composure quickly devolved into me nearly dying of laughter as my friend pointed out that the sand looked like millions of pictures of Edvard Munch’s “Scream” portrait and then proceeding to tickle me. As if that wasn’t bad enough, we ran into someone from Vang Vieng wearing flip flops and socks. I was complete toast.

Dancing on the beach with a guy I met from New Zealand bull shitting about how bad the music was and absolutely pissing ourselves laughing. I cried, I hyperventilated, I nearly fell over I was laughing so hard. I closed the night listening to Radiohead.

And as I stared at the island and thought about how much it looked like an alligator I wondered if I was still tripping. Well, if the fact that I thought the song on my i pod was the most amazing song I’ve heard in a long time (thought I’ve listened to every song about 500 times) is any indication I was forced to deduce I probably was. But man, did I need to laugh that hard. I’d been in the monthly mood fuck that always comes with the full moon.

And then we had to leave. Another couldn’t be spent waking up at 5 pm. That was about the worst trip home ever as I found myself up til 7 AM and having to wake up at 11 AM to pack and be a human being. I was hoping the valium on the bus would help. They did “help” in the sense that they did their job in relaxing my muscles, but this was less fortunate when I was trying to pee in a squat toilet at some rest stop mid valium trip. I’ll allow that maybe chewing the valium instead of swallowing them may have led to my state, but I still am in awe that I didn’t complete piss all over myself or fall over onto that fragrant paradise known as the squat toilet bathroom floor at a rest stop in Thailand. Beautiful. My legs have never been so simultaneously rubbery and heavy as they were last night.

And now I’m back in Bangkok on my way to Cambodia. My liver is cleansing since apparently drinking Redbull and whiskey all night makes me brain dead the next day. Imagine! I’m going to miss my mushroom shakes, but I may find some more and some more awesome people that would make the trip worthwhile. If not, I’m counting on you guys when I get back home. Ha.

Two days of sobriety and I’ll have some good stories to put on here. Bear with me.

xo