Istanbul: Touched by a Turk.
Can I just say hooray for toilets!
Apart from disposing of our waste (which is quite nifty) they signify cultural change.
Example: Turkish toilets involve squatting over a hole and disposing of used toılet paper in a trash can. This can only mean Turks have poor plumbing and healthy bowels. Well, not sure about the healthy bowels, but they have bowels that empty quicker than... uh... something quick (insert your own speed metaphor). See, as you're squatting, you're bottom muscles lose control against the gravitational pull. Issac Newton would have been proud. Wow, wasn't that last paragraph pretty shit (cue canned laughter).
Anyway, we were held up at the Turkish border because the main guard wanted to finish his entire Turkish paper before stamping our passports. Why did he do it? Because he could.
We finally arrived at Istanbul: The city formerly known as Byzantine and Constantinople. Muslim. Blue Mosque. Where Europe meets Asia. Islamic prayer five times a day. Population 12 million. Horrible traffic. Why am I speaking in short sentences? Because I can.
Can I just say hooray for toilets!
Apart from disposing of our waste (which is quite nifty) they signify cultural change.
Example: Turkish toilets involve squatting over a hole and disposing of used toılet paper in a trash can. This can only mean Turks have poor plumbing and healthy bowels. Well, not sure about the healthy bowels, but they have bowels that empty quicker than... uh... something quick (insert your own speed metaphor). See, as you're squatting, you're bottom muscles lose control against the gravitational pull. Issac Newton would have been proud. Wow, wasn't that last paragraph pretty shit (cue canned laughter).
Anyway, we were held up at the Turkish border because the main guard wanted to finish his entire Turkish paper before stamping our passports. Why did he do it? Because he could.
We finally arrived at Istanbul: The city formerly known as Byzantine and Constantinople. Muslim. Blue Mosque. Where Europe meets Asia. Islamic prayer five times a day. Population 12 million. Horrible traffic. Why am I speaking in short sentences? Because I can.
Wandering around Istanbul I surprisingly only got ripped off twice. I overpaid for a kebab (no, I wasn't drunk) and a haircut. Tired of the whole having hair thing I had my head shaved. Now, I have an adult sized head but a torso of a 12 year old boy. It's because I have an abnormally fast metabolism - I can't put on weight. Women have said to me they wanted my body. I would get excited only to realize that they ACTUALLY wanted my body, fast metabolism and all. Very embarrassing.
With my shaved head I looked like a hospital patient. I considered wandering the streets of Istanbul holding a drip in the hope of not being ripped off, but my non Turkish appearance warrants a 250% markup on all souvenirs, no matter my state of health.
I went to a genuine Turkish bath (only a 125% markup) and received a deep tissue massage from an overweight, middle aged, moustached Turk named Akmahl. Akmahl gave me a savage beating. Knowing exactly where all my knots were, he wouldn't stop until they were pulverised. I wouldn't have been surprised if he brought out a crowbar and started laying into my lower back. After Akmal pulverised me into a blob of flesh, I oozed back to my hotel for an afternoon siesta.
If I hadn't willingly lied on massage table, his actions would constitute assault. But this assault never felt so damn good. So good I wouldn't even lodge a police report. Wow... Did I just think that or type that? Does that sentance even make sense? How awkward.
1 comment:
yu finally got yur deep tissue massage..
as good as yu had imagined?
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