Sam loved Thailand from the second he woke up and saw a chain of small rocky islands and translucent crystal blue waters from his first-class window seat.
On the flight, he’d dreamed of that Twilight Zone episode with the troll on the wing of the plane and saw his ex-wife as the troll, tormenting him.
The bitch crawling on the plane’s wing, on all fours, baring her fangs, blood dripping from her mouth. The bitch clawing at him with her acrylic talons, those long nails painted blood red, and the bitch leaping like a tiger towards his window.
But to his glee, the bitch stumbled and slid off the wing of the plane, and plummeted like a skydiver with no parachute and Sam flicked her off as she faded
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer ignominiously away, clawing and hissing at him fecklessly as she fell back to hell where the bitch belonged…
Then he woke and she was gone. The bitch was dead. Or at least in his mind she was, and that was good enough.
Peering out the window, gliding into Bangkok, all Sam could see was the sun, the brilliant bright orb lighting the tropical landscape in the effulgence of its solar glow. Sam used his hand to shield his eyes, squinted, and looked down, marveled at the skyline of the metropolis from the plane, its towering glass-plated buildings, one of them having a fragmented, funky shape, and one of them with a tip that looked like a spiraling temple.
The place was just as amazing as it looked in the movies!
He felt like he was in a movie, too, when he arrived. It was the “Hangover Part 4,”
and he was the star. Or better yet, he was finally a rock star, living out his rock n’
roll dream, and he blasted Ratt in his earbuds as he stood in the immigration line.
Along with taking massive doses of Xanax and Zoloft, he had recently been meditating and listening to relaxation music, to keep himself calm, keep his anger and depression in check, but he decided to delete all the meditation music off his phone, now that he was in Thailand.
Fuck that calm shit.
He would be listening to only hard rock from now on. And only choice shit from the 70s, starting with Kiss and Aerosmith. Tons of 80s party rock, too, of course,
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer like Mötley Crüe’s “Girls, Girls, Girls”, and Whitesnake’s 1987 self-titled record, and his playlists would abruptly end at the early 90s, with Slaughter and Skid Row.
His playlists were especially heavy on the AC/DC, and he also had lots of butt metal like Warrant, Winger, and Poison. “Nothing But A Good Time” becoming his new anthem.
There’d be no depressing Seattle grungy lumberjack dickheads and definitely no weak corporate bullshit like Coldplay or pansies like The Strokes.
Sam would only be listening to kick ass, high energy ROCK N’ FUCKING ROLL!
He was in Thailand, motherfucker!