Patricia tells me you just got back from abroad, huh? Very cool. Actually, my passport should be arriving tomorrow. No, I’m fine with my mineral water. No drinkin’ for me. I want to stay sharp, so I don’t make any mistakes tomorrow. No, I’m not leaving tomorrow. I just don’t want to make any mistakes tomorrow when they drop off my passport. Like sign my name wrong or spit on the postman. I can’t afford to make any mistakes. I need to stay On The Ball. I think that’ll be easy though—I’m operating at a heightened level and have been for the last couple weeks. That’s because I’m so psyched to be going to North Korea.
Woah. That drink must be stiff. Did it catch you in the soft-palate? Sometimes when I get a bit of whiskey up there, I’ll choke like that too. I think it’s because of a tonsil irregularity. You should get that checked out. To be honest, I’m so stoked about my trip to North Korea that I’ve been getting that gaggy, dry-heave feeling for the past three days.
Why would I want to go to North Korea? That’s a question I’ve had to answer for myself, and I guess it keeps coming back to the fact that I’m interested in seeing if our adaptation of their delicious North Korean Barbecue holds a candle to the real thing. I’m sure that’s like going to Chicago for deep-dish pizza, or Las Vegas for the hookers, or Montreal for tonsil surgery, and if that makes me a tourist, then I’m a tourist, three times over. Four times over after I’ve sampled a completely authentic national treasure that’s free to be everything it can be in the great nation of North Korea.
Say what? Nuclear exercises? Well, I hope they’ve been exercising, nuclear or otherwise, because if I had access to what I’m sure is a taste experience that totally defies our Western flavor vocabularies, I’d be eating my weight in that amazing North Korean Barbecue on the regs, and I’d need pul-enty of exercise. Thermo-nuclear the better, right? The-more-nuclear the better? Get it?
No, I’ve never used an internet.