Yes... Loathing... as in Fear and Loathing... a Great Man once utilized that term to describe certain aspects of his observations. I myself find it an apt comparison to how I currently feel. The main reason is I found out exactly WHY I'm still stuck in this horrid place.
It would seem, those of you who have been 'tuned in' for the past year or so would be familiar with the issue at hand... well hell let me explain from the beginning. Back in December, Christmas Eve specifically, I got in a haymaker of a car wreck with a Kuwaiti... a real live Kuwaiti. Said accident left me with about a pound and a half of extra metal in ye olde kneecap and an extra zipper to go along with the extra assholes I carry as well. (Note to the uninitiated, shrapnel scars tend to look like a puckered asshole) Well... the accident and subsequent quarter of a million dollars worth of knee reconstruction weren't enough to cover my recovery as it were.
It seems that when my passport was turned into the Kuwaiti Minitry of Immigration, the computer lit up like a knocking shop cash register on pay day, which is exactly what it was... leastways for the fucking Kuwaitis. Seems that during my 'recovery' in the States, I was tried in absentia and found guilty of who the fuck knows what. Reason I say that is that today when I was at the Immigration office, the documentation that the broad behind the counter gave me to sign was all in Arabic with no translation. I had a 'fixer' from my sponsoring company who was with me and told me that signing it was ok, but I have my reservations. For all I know I was signing a document stating I molest Great Danes or that I was "Guilty of Driving While Being a Pork Eating Crusader-Infidel." Either way, besides me signing unknown documents in a strange and forbidden tongue, I also had to fork over KD $100 for the priviledge of getting out of this fucking country. That roughly translates to over $400 US Dollars... serious fucking greenbacks man... dinero I barely have to afford eh?
Fuck me... talk about the proverbial pound of fucking flesh. At least the bastards gave me a fucking reciept, albeit even it is in some strange arabic fucking scrawl... I really don't know what possessed me to sign and fork over the ducats, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stretch out whats already been a long overdue escape.
Once I paid off, I raced back to the work site so I could give the Admin lady the reciept and let her copy it... No way am I giving up the original... that gets held onto as long as I'm still in this goddamned desert... but shge was really nice and it would seem that everythin g is in order, so I have great hopes that I'll be able to fly this weekend and get out of this place for some much deserved R&R. That and my Roomdawg hooked me some Siddique... Yeah... Back to drinking the lighter fluid again... I mean hell... at least I can enjoy the rest of myy day off.
Oh yeah... did I meantion that all of this shit happened on my fuckin day off? Yeah... NOW it's clear why I'm so salty... anyways... More later... Til then, I remain the Disgruntled IR...