Dear Vietnamese Government,

fuck you.

fuck you for making me wait in line longer than anyone else on my flight just to get through immigration and then being so god damn polite to me at customs that i can't let my internalized rage stew and fester in me, prompting me to one day vomit some spiteful democracy on you out of nowhere.

fuck you for not putting a lid on all those phony-ass taxis whose cabbies all at once try taking my luggage to their own cab while i say, "khong khong khong khong!!!!! taxi motmotmotmotmotmot o dau? o dau!!!?!?!" only to have a super friendly vinataxi driver help me out and take me home for like 3 bucks.

fuck you for letting dirty little heroin-addicted HIV-infected chronic hugger beggar boy strut around de tham like he owns the place and can look at me whenever he wants. (oh what's that? you throw him in jail sometimes when you feel like it? ok. please accept my apologies then.)

fuck you for requiring only a passport and one sane eye to rent a sweet motorbike so that i can go wherever the fuck i want however fast i want and properly kick it to motorcycle ninja honeys while getting a pleasant, nigh-imperceptible high off sucking in the fumes that permeate throughout every street because it will surely be the death of me and i loathe you for your irresponsibility.

fuck you for somehow preventing me from turning the god damn light outside my balcony off so that i have to wear the sleeping mask i got on my flight from japan to saigon which is 1) not what it was intended for and 2) makes me feel like a princess.

fuck you for all the dirt cheap food that i will no doubt gorge myself on for the next few months and keep it in my stomach because it's so delicious and become obese like a true american hero. just thank your lucky stars you're not an american-owned corporation, vietnamese government, or i'd threaten a class action lawsuit against you greedy, gluttonous fucks so fast it'd make your collective communist head cry dong right into my wallet.

fuck you for calling this a rainy season. not a one flash rainstorm in the 2 days i've been back. what, you think my motorbike's gonna clean itself? what, you think i'm gonna clean itself?. get a friggin' clue.

fuck you for carrying out a police-enforced shutdown of the entire city at midnight every night, even the weekends, cause seriously that's not cool. economically speaking that is. i mean, how are the mafia-owned clubs gonna make a living huh? what are the shaking medicine dealers gonna feed their children now that their customers have no where to shake? ecstasy!? how are the prostitutes gonna learn english if the english teachers don't even have enough time to get sufficiently drunk to offer to exchange services? ever think of that!? and where the fuck are people gonna go when they need a hug? a xe om driver? no thank you. that's not the kinda ohm i know and love at 3 in the morning.

and last of all, fuck you for allowing private businesses that i'll never work at like ernst & young to ban access to my and other blogspot bloggers' websites for no good fucking reason you sorry communist wannabe rotten cunt licking homopussies!!!!


love,
mat