These Days

There is always a party. I routinely return home at 7 am and go to sleep on Winnie-the-Pooh bedsheets, because these sheets are what the landlord had laying around, and that’s good enough for me. Again, I sleep on Winnie-the-Pooh sheets and I’m 29 years old. Also, I am now down to only three pairs of boxer briefs, which means “Underwear Days” are a thing in my vocabulary. I am probably the most single man in the world.

What else? My travel book is being published next month but I’m hesitant about how to brag about it on social media. I think I have to go sarcastic/ironic with it. It’s a Real Book, but the Communist censors cut most of the teeth out of it. All that’s left of it is the literary equivalent of an in-flight magazine. All that’s left of it is basically a few listicles on where to find pho. Essentially, I have as much bragging rights as the dweebs who edit math textbooks.

What else?

Uh well I got a job making YouTube videos, but not because I’m talented. It’s because I live in Vietnam and there’s only six white people here. I am definitely not on camera because I’m handsome enough to be on camera. I mean – I know I’m not a bridge troll. But I’m also not a model. I’m what they call HIV (Handsome in Vietnam). Being HIV, so to speak, allows me to occasionally lure women onto my Winnie-the-Pooh sheets, too. My life is sort of a joke.

I’ve been in Vietnam for a year and I’ve had a few drugs, a few motorcycle crashes, a few thousand drinks and a few epiphanies that didn’t last. For the sake of exploding my perspective and getting inspired, I should leave soon. I’ll make some videos and then I’ll leave. I’ll go to some more parties and then I’ll leave. I’ll buy underwear when I leave.

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