Coronafornia Dreamin’ Part 5: Seven’s 2nd Diary Entry

Coronafornia Dreamin’ Part 5: Seven’s 2nd Diary Entry

Dear Diary,


Being trapped in the United States is a special kind of Hell. There are no women to speak of. There’s nowhere to go and nothing to do. Chemtrails coat the sky daily. The only plusses are the exquisite food and excellent wine, both of which have turned me into an obese slob.

I miss Thailand. I miss my apartment, and the sweet solitude it provides. I miss Foodpanda and the tacos they bring me. I miss my harem and their weekly variety of BJ’s and poontang. I miss Patpong, and the glorious gogos therein. I miss not filling my days with activities I’m not interested in, conversations I don’t want to be a part of, and the constant need to allay my family’s irrational Covid fears.



I’m tired. Tired of answering inane questions. Tired of going on day trips to faraway supermarkets, chosen for their distant location because driving uses up minutes in the day. Tired of driving to the beach just to look at the water and then drive home. Tired of eating, as great as the food is. Americans eat waaaaaay too much food. Tired because my sleep is constantly interrupted by loud family members and neighborhood animals. Tired of sitting around. Tired of waiting around. Tired of wasting time, tired of using time wisely. Tired of practicing ukulele, tired of playing video games. Tired of hearing about Coronavirus.




The CDC just reported that, contrary to all the scaremongering in the Media, it’s virtually impossible to catch Covid from touching a surface. It turns out, you catch the virus by being trapped in an enclosed space with an infected person. So places like nursing homes, regular homes, elevators, cave-ins, cruise ships, etc. are where you get Covid. Not the beach, or the mall, or the bar. And yet, here in Los Angeles as well as Bangkok, everything remains unnecessarily shut and we are told to stay home for no good goddam reason.

The death projections were all wrong. In the US, nurses are being laid off in droves because they’re not needed. Hospitals are empty. Testing sites are vacant because people don’t need them. In spite of that, “news” outlets report increasing cases and a possible “2nd Wave.” Nonsense. Utter lies. The bald facts of the matter are: Covid isn’t nearly as dangerous as the experts predicted, people under the age of 75 have nothing to worry about for the most part, and the virus has been used as an excuse for a draconian suppression of basic human rights and economic ruin by power-mad governments.


Take Thailand, for example. They haven’t had a single death in over two weeks, and the number of new cases in-country is less than 1 per day. And yet, the government voted on Thursday to keep the lockdown decree in place, in bold denial (or possibly pig-headed ignorance) of what the science is telling us about this virus. And they’ve extended the ban on foreigners, stranding teachers abroad and ensuring that thousands of schools across the country will be forced to open short-handed. Once they do start admitting workers, we poor sods will have to endure a 14-day quarantine on arrival. Apparently, no one in the Thai government has heard of the antibodies test that can show a person is IMMUNE to the virus. At the same time, they’re fine with permitting tourists to visit places like Phuket and Samui with no quarantine. One wonders how and whether the synapses between neurons in the brains of government officials actually function. The words “mentally” and “retarded” spring to mind.


Last week, I learned my exile in America will extend till July. Within hours, speculation spread that the Thai Civil Air Authority would extend the ban yet again, forcing workers to wait till August—a full month into the school year. It’s total madness. There’s no sense in banning expats who are immune. If the problem is lack of quarantine space, let them shelter in their Bangkok homes. I pay 14 grand per month for a quarantine room already. No one’s in it. A child could think of these solutions. What is the government’s excuse?






I’m reminded daily of why I moved to the other side of the planet. Every night at 7 pm, I’m stuck at home watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune with my mother and brother. If I was in Thailand, I’d spend that hour with a naked gogo dancer strapped to my bed. My family chew with their mouths open. My mom makes “mmmm-mm” noises when she tastes something she likes, reminiscent of the corn-on-the-cob scene from “What About Bob?” I get updates on all of her ailing geriatric friends’ ailments, bookended with decades-old jokes emailed to her from my aunts. The fact is, no one in this house ever. Stops. Talking. How polar opposite is life here from that of Bangkok, where the most I have to hear about is an updated review of a Sunday roast from Lucky or Kee Mao Moo via Facebook Messenger, and a Line message from one of my harem that is simply the hour she plans to arrive co-sent with a photo of her freshly-shaved vajay. Lord A’mercy, how I yearn to get back, get out, get all the way to the B-K-K.


I wish there was more to say, reader. But we’re all stuck in the moment at the moment. There’s no gogo to speak of, whether you’re in the heart of Bangkok or half a world away. Head over to the Patpong Museum if you wanna kill some time. They’re open, and several examples of my artwork are on display. Tell them Seven sent you. It won’t earn you a discount.






And just FYI, you four dudes who actually read these blogs, I think I’m done talking about coronavirus. There’s no point, no sense, no solace, and no plus to talking about it anymore. Everything that can be said has been said. Corona is no longer the threat. Now, our greatest enemy is the State.

Cheers to enduring another week of the combined insanity and stupidity of our leaders. Stay strong, reader. We’re nearing the end of this tripe.