Archive for February, 2009

There was only one choice of T-shirt to pull over my gorgeous torso yesterday, and that was my limited edition, highly collectable, oft-admired, Grand Theft Auto IV T-shirt. And the reason for the focused homage was the imminent release of the downloadable content pack for GTA IV, The Lost and The Damned.

By downloadable, I mean I fire up my recently fixed Xbox and spend about $20 worth of Microsoft Live points to buy the pack, which then downloads to my machine. That’s the theory. With release at 0300 SET, I reckoned that any time after 1500 Thai time would show the download as being available, and so it was.

So I clicked on the download button, the lights flashed for a few seconds and then…. and then I get a message saying “not available at your location.” In summary, WTF? In detail, what the fuck?

I try changing my location in the Xbox which of course makes no difference at all. Why does Microsoft make everything difficult? Searching the web I find people from a variety of countries complaining about this problem. Something to do with region locking plus not being able to download if your machine is in a different country from where you were originally registered, plus your eyes being the wrong colour; probably. Useless.

I go to bed feeling grumpy and vowing to buy a Playstation 3 instead. This morning I check the web again and it appears that MS has come to, what passes as, its senses and removed the region locking. I go and try again and it swallows my MS Live points and tells me the download is pending. Joy.

While it is downloading I need to go and get some exercise, for I am due for several days of couch based controller twiddling. Lost and damned indeed.

Back in the old country you could stroll into a garage, buy a car, and drive away with a proper registration plate. In thailand you can do the strolling, buying and driving away things; but attached to your car will be a pair of red licence plates. These are owned by the garage and you will have to drive on them until your own plates are ready, a process that can take months.

Having a red plates allows you to show off that you have a new car, which means that someone will probably put a scratch down the side to put you right for being a big showoff. In addition, to deter people from driving on red plates for ever and thereby avoiding road tax, there are restrictions on usage; the most annoying being that you are not allowed to drive during the hours of darkness.

Of course everyone ignores this, including me. So when I was driving back from Bangkok last night it was no surprise to be stopped by a policeman who was hanging around at the toll booth; just waiting for someone like me to come along.

I wound down the window and wished him the most pleasant of evenings.

Sunshine only, he said.
Pardon?
Sunshine only (and he points in the general direction of the front number plate while gazing up at the sky to indicate where the sunshine would come from if it wasn’t 2100).
Ah, yes. Sorry.

At this point I avoided any further unpleasantness involving driving licence inspections and pretending to fill out forms, by waving 100 baht under his nose. He beamed, took the note and said something in Thai along the lines of “that will do nicely sir, please move along and I hope I catch you doing the same thing tomorrow evening.”

Fairly painless, but a nuisance, and I wondered again why it takes the combination of Mitsubishi and the government nearly three months to still not give me my own plates. It’s not like I haven’t done my bit.

When you buy a car they need a barrowload of documents from you, all of which have a role to play in the lengthy registration process. I gave them everything they needed and waited. And waited. After a month or so they called she who must be obeyed, who then called me.

They want a copy of the page of your passport with the visa on it.
I already gave them that.
They need it again.
Why?
Because it has expired and so they want another copy.
*pause*
The visa hasn’t expired, and if it had, giving them another copy would be pointless because it is a copy of the same document which they think has expired.
So are you going to give them a copy?
No.

I put down the phone and waiting for it to ring again. Clearly the story from Mitsubishi was weapons-grade bullshit, a pathetic attempt to save face by inventing a reason which was totally devoid of logic.

The phone rings again and it is she who must be obeyed.

They want a copy of the page of your passport with the visa on it.
I already gave them that.
They need it again.
Why?
Because they lost the first one.
Fine, I will drop it off this afternoon.

Of course by being awkward, I made them own up and thereby lose face. Since then there has been silence and I know what they are up to. My visa DOES actually expire next week. Shortly afterwards I will get the call:

They want a copy of the page of your passport with the visa on it.
I already gave them that.
They need it again.
Why?
Because it has expired and so they want another copy.

Bastards.

After Burapa bikes if was off to Polo Escape for the second day of the Thailand Polo League action. By the end of this second day I had accumulated 1,500 photos which will need processing at some point. Meantime, here are a couple that caught my eye as I browsed the uploaded photos:

The black hole beast performed to perfection; lovely crisp images and flawless focusing. And when the sun dropped below the trees and it was almost dark, it sucked in the remaining light and gave me low noise results with only a slight drop-off in colour, like this:

Having presented she who must be obeyed with her non-Valentine’s present of a bottle of perfume, she announced that her perfume collection was now closed for additional offerings due to a lack of storage space. This was a shame because, unknown to her, I had actually bought her two bottles of perfume, one for non-Valentine’s day, and one for the day itself.

Still, the second bottle went down well enough this morning, and space will no doubt be found for storage. I also bought a soppy card within which I wrote stuff which I will not repeat here, but it reflected the fact that while it is no more than averagely difficult to maintain a relationship with someone in the good times; it is when times get tough that you really discover the depth of the bond between you. The way in which she who must be obeyed gave me unstinting love and support during some difficult times after my accident deserves more gratitude than a couple of bottles of perfume can convey; but maybe the words helped.

She who must be obeyed shares my opinion that Valentine’s day is nothing more than a shameful marketing exercise and we will not partake of such nonsense. However, I expect that deep down she would like a little gift to mark the occasion, so before going to Bangkok this morning I raided her perfume collection to see what was popular (i.e. on the shelf but not much left).

I then ventured amongst the ladyboys at the cosmetic counters in The Emporium and found a suitable bottle. My salesperson was most insistent I should try some male fragrances and, in spite of my protestations, proceeded to attack me with a variety of foul smelling liquids. When I left the shop I smelled like something you spray in the toilet after a particularly aggressive bowel movement, or maybe I smelled like a particularly aggressive bowel movement. Either way, it was bad.

Back home I quickly showered before the return of she who must be obeyed, and duly presented her with her non-Valentine’s day present (thought it would be appropriate to give it on non-Valentine’s day).
She was sufficiently delighted and most impressed at my perfume collection rummaging skills.

She then presented me with one baht.

Why are you giving me one baht?
Because we Thais believe that if someone gives you perfume you must give them some money, or else the couple will fall out.
How can that possibly be true?
It’s been proven!

It’s at this point where I have learned not to embark upon a fruitless discussion in an attempt to pinpoint the series of sociological experiments which confirmed this to be a scientific fact; any more than I could find experiments that prove 13 is unlucky. It’s just one of a thousand Thai superstitions and you just learn to live with them.

Neither did I proffer the receipt and suggest that giving me the remaining 4,699 baht of the cost would make it absolutely certain that we would not fall out. We Spikes believe that trying to get flippant with she who must be obeyed is a sure path to a clip round the head.

It’s been proven.