This one is for the American’s. But the rest will be for YOU, India!

To start a new document, or not to start a new document? That is always the question. Today I choose the former. The time is 11:46 (in the morning, remember I use military time), the date is 12/6/18, and I am writing to you from the Blue Sky Cafe in downtown Kolkata. It appears to be mostly tourists, albeit the place is still not teaming with people. I am one of nine customers, and the restaurant could comfortable seat twice that many people, and uncomfortably many more. I am thinking I should buy an extension cord and carry it with me, because outlets are few, and often times near the ceiling, or simply placed in what I would consider an awkward position. However, I am not knowledgeable of the area yet, and perhaps the monsoon season calls for electricity to be held far away from the floor. Today I have traded in my camera for the trusty computer. Not that I don’t have the camera with me, because I have just been using my phone, but still. I will probably keep the video to a minimum today, and try to accomplish some serious writing. My food has just arrived! As cliche as I am going to seem, I must take the picture. For you, I do this.

The food is good. Less filling than I hoped it would be, but still very good. I ordered the masala omelette, and some Indian bread of sorts (not naan. I should have noted the proper name, but now I am home editing and it’s too late. I will find out next time). The dipping sauce it comes with smells and tastes strongly of whiskey…and my body can’t handle whisky anymore. After literally forcing feeding hundreds of bottles of Old Thompson into my body, the line has been drawn. and I mean forced. Once long ago, I kept trying to drink my morning whiskey, and my body kept throwing it up, and I got quite angry with my body so I kept trying to force that Old Thompson down over, and over, and over again. The end result was that I ended up in the intensive care unit at my local hospital later on in the day, and the diagnosis was that I had an arterial blood clot in my throat. I had an edoscopy done, and when I awoke I was being rushed to intensive care. I spent three days in the hospital. They told me that if the blood clot were to burst, they would knock me out with drugs, put a football helmet on my head, shove a tampon down my throat, and pray for the best. Can’t do the time, don’t do the crime ladies and gentleman. I was not upset, and barely scared when they told me this. If I didn’t want a serious medical scare, I could have simply not tried to drink whiskey after my body rejected it several times. It’s really quite simple, in my eyes. Anyway. So when I eat this spread they give me for the Indian bread, my body prepares for something like the above to happen. I am not an alcoholish ladies and gentlemen; I am an alcoholic. That was not the only time my alcoholism brought me to the hospital, but it was the first, and it was the most serious of all the visits.

Three ladies just sat down next to me. Perhaps they are tourists as well (turns out they were from one of the Seven Sisters of India). In culturally diverse cities, it is often difficult to determine the tourists from the locals. As of today, I find myself falling into a gray area of those two categories. I have secured my welfare by agreeing to rent from the lovely folks I am currently staying with, and I will remain in Kolkata until at least the end of January. Ahh. The time is coming where I need to seek electricity. My computer says I have one hour and forty-seven minutes of power left. Actually…I guess that will be plenty. I will only be doing a little writing today. Jeez. After what happened to us in San Francisco, we must maintain our vigilance; must we not Chris? Seriously. I haven’t even fucking touched the last articles I wrote there. Someday I will. Perhaps still sooner than you could expect. My other goal for today is to talk to someone about getting some T-Shirts printed. Perhaps I will make polo’s, since that is what most people wear here. I found a place nearby in Bow Barracks I intend to go to for this, and by the end of the day I intend to be knowledgeable of the cost of such an endeavor. My goal was originally to set out and get an Indian SIM card today, but I have again pushed that off for tomorrow. Idk why. I guess it’s cuz I have high anxiety about accomplishing such a task. As time will though have it though, I am becoming more comfortable. OH! Holy shit! I almost forgot to mention. Someone tried to sell me weed! Like fucking 30 minutes ago. It was pretty crazy. I said no and simply walked away. Of course I want to smoke some fucking ganja! but if I have high anxiety about getting a SIM card, how anxious do you think I would be purchasing some tree? I literally almost have a panic attack every time I do it in Wisconsin. But it’s medicine, so I don’t shy away. OMG! And mother fucking Scott Shit Walker is going LAME DUCK on out new Tony Evers, the later of which I have a playlist on my Spotify named after. I can’t believe I voted for that asshole. One of the first things I intend to do once I have some weight behind me, is take to suing the FUCK out of ENTIRE state of Wisconsin for ruining my friend Jared’s life during his 20’s. They will of course say simply: if he didn’t want his life ruined, he could have just not smoked weed. I however believe different. They won’t even let the motherfucker leave! Or, perhaps he isn’t fighting hard enough., I am not sure, but either way. They have had him wrapped up in probation for like four years now, and literally all he has done is smoke weed. Now they have him in some class telling him he can’t control himself. I disagree. I would say the forces of the Wisconsin Government can’t control themselves, and have detained my friend for reasons that are far past relevant. He lives about 20 minutes from the Michigan border, and they are about to have RECREATION MARIJUANA! Yet…he will still be on probation. Instead of forcing him to move to Michigan, or at least giving him a chance to do so, they have simply ruined his life. My friend Jared has a child. I will not stand for this treatment of my friends! and this is not a new fight of mine! You can scroll back in my blog, and you will see that I wrote a letter to the judge presiding over the case. Did Jared present such letter at his testimony? Probably not. Alas, that doesn’t change what should be happening in his situation. and this most recent action of trying to go Lame Duck is just…it’s not how we should run our government. A Lame Duck act is when a government party that has been voted out, but is still seated in power, passes laws and commits actions, usually to lessen the power of the incoming government. So the people spoke, but governor Shit-Walker is blatantly saying FUCK THE PEOPLE OF WISCONSIN! and so what choice do I have except to fight the good fight? Exactly. Okay. The time is 12:34 here in Kolkata, and I am going to wrap up my time here at the Blue Sky Cafe, and move onto…something else. I don’t know what I am moving onto yet…but I intend to do some more exploring. I mean, this is my home now, until at least the end of January. The reason I have chosen that time frame is because I have been invited to a wedding at the end of January, and I would just love to attend, and so I will be there. Or I will be square. Okay. Over and out…for now!


South City Mall

The time is now 16:53, and I am at a place called “Cookie Man,” which is inside the South City mall, right near my apartment. Jeez. I wonder when I will get sick of saying that. I actually have an apartment yall! That’s a huge step for me. Now that I am observing the sign a little closer, I see it says ‘Cookie Man, Fresh Baked Australian Cookies.’ Okay. I see you Australia. I ordered the ‘pasta alfredo veg,’ (they don’t only sell cookies) and holymoly you guys…it’s really good. Hmm. So this morning a little girl, who honestly could probably speak more english than her mom, came up to me and asked me where I was from. I told her USA, and then I gave her my card, after I asked her if she likes to read. Now this girl was like 9 or maybe 10 years old. It was only after this interaction I realized that maybe my website isn’t the kind of portal a 9-10 year old girl should be visiting. That interaction is what has prompted me to use the phrase ‘holymoly,’ which is of course out of character for me. Hmm. I don’t think I will be faltering from my usual vocabulary much more, which means…I have to maintain my vigilance in regards to whom I invited to read my writing. Right? Yes is the clear answer. Contradictory to that, I do believe reaching an audience while they are young leads to a strong relationship between business and customer, or writer and reader, or say, preacher and sermonites. I learned this fair-to-be tactic from…drumroll!…big-fucking-tobacco. Yup. You heard me right. I am taking a page from the book of one of the worst industries this planet has ever, and will ever see. but whereas RJ has no problem telling kids directly (lets get real about what’s direct and what’s not) to smoke, I am actually trying to make sure I don’t introduce an entire generation of english speakers to the wrong vernacular. So far…my record is spotty at best. Damn this pasta is good. It’s probably so damn bad for me lol.

When I look around me I see the following stores: Reebok, DC Shoe Co USA, Bata, Starmark, Woodland, Hush Puppies, and Zodiac. I also see three restaurants: Cookie Man (obviously), Coffee World, and CHILI’S! There is a damn Chili’s in this mall, and honestly, I am going to be hella thankful for that sooner or later, I know it. I bet they have that good American food in there. mmm. I purposely haven’t gone in there yet, so I can save it for when I really need it. Plus, it’s probably going to be more expensive than I want it to be, and so I’d rather just wait to find that out. How much do you think a burger is in that Chili’s? Probably 700-1000 INR (Indian Rupees). Which is about 10-14 USD (United States Dollars). Alas, when I want that Chili’s burger, I will certainly be ready to pay. Everyday though? Maybe not. Now if I find out I can grab a good lunch at that Chili’s for like 500 or 600 INR, well then we’re in business, and I will probably go there all the time.

I am super under-dressed, and I smell bad, and I know it. Alas, I acted and felt no different in America. This is the hand I’ve been dealt, in the game that is life. So as someone pointed out to me yesterday, many westerners think India to be a country cloaked in poverty; head to toe famine with little to offer except for the sightseeing of slums and shanty towns. I am here to tell you that is so not true. I am in a mall right now with throngs of people who can afford to spend their money much different that I can. The young people of India are in school to be engineers, doctors, and scientists. I am a lowly writer. I am a lowly writer who is done with his pasta. I am a lowly writer who only ate a small portion of pasta, yet still probably consumed 1500 calories; that shit was thick. I mean it. That was some serious alfredo. OoOo. I recived the bill. It says…oh my god. I was in the middle of writing that sentence, and I let him take the check from me when he walked back up. Will I ever be able to finish that thought? It said like Brijaxks at the top or something. My current concern is that I put 300 rupees in and…nvm, he brought me my change. The bill was only 230 rupees. Oh. and inside is the receipt, an it says: ‘Brijlax Foods Pvt. Ltd.’ That’s what it says on the top, and that’s the company that owns Cookie Man. Cool. Always good to know where your food is coming from. My only quarrel with this place was the use of styrofoam plates. Eh. I’ll fight that battle another day. Okay. I think I am over staying my welcome here, and so I will leave. I also need to finish the above thought about how India is  complex country, full of folks who can afford $100 RayBan’s when I still can’t. To be continued… The time is 17:36.


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