I'm sitting here at my desk anticipating sweat. I turned off my tiny air conditioner a couple of minutes back and opened the window, letting the moist summer air in, as well as the hiss of the city below. I live on a very busy urban street, which is pretty much awful, since it's nothing but the constant sound of cars. I hate cars. I hate how people complain about smoking, industrial pollution and a variety of other ills, yet drive around in their cars as if the right were bestowed upon them from God on high. I was recently in Nampo-dong, the harbor area of this city, where they have a kind of cobblestone shopping street, which now, on the weekends, they actually close to cars. And guess what? It's fucking terrific. You can walk unmolested and unhonked at, which is saying something in this country, where the right of the driver trumps that of the pedestrian every time. In Korea, crosswalks are just places where drivers might think about SLIGHTLY SLOWING DOWN. There are no traffic laws on the peninsula - just traffic suggestions.

It's been a cunt of a rainy season this year, pouring forth from the sky in relentless waves. Last Saturday was the worst, with the whole of the country enveloped in a deluge so bad that scores of people were killed. These deaths no doubt happened in the countryside, where the flooding is most severe and the residents are mostly elderly. No running away from the flash flood when you're 89 with extreme scoliosis. It's amazing how aged the rural population of Korea is. Who's going to farm in ten or twenty years, when all of these people are gone? It's gotta be a serious concern.

I was supposed to head to Daegu on Saturday, but cancelled my plans because of the storm. I didn't feel like riding a bus over a cluster of mountains when the city streets had turned into literal rivers. It felt like a good day to stay in, rather than become a road-death statistic. Yikes. I was going to Daegu to retrieve my green bag - my badass travel bag that I bought in the Philippines. I took it up to Daegu over two weeks ago when I performed in a comedy show, opening for Danny Cho. There was an emaciated British dude at the bar who could not handle his gargle. He'd been drinking all day and was straight-up stagger and slurring drunk. He hung out for the show and very messily attempted to heckle, getting shut down hard by Danny Cho throughout his set. After the show I hit the pisser, and when I came back to my chair, I noticed that my bag (which contained my little laptop) was gone. The staff showed me the CCTV and lo and behold, the really really drunk guy left with it. At first I was incensed at the naked theft, but it was soon discovered that Mr. Britdrunkypants and left HIS bag at the bar, which, while very different from mine stylistically, was also green. He'd mixed 'em up, but it was too late: He was long gone by the time I ran into the streets after his ass.

I managed to track him down on FB and after some cajoling and threats, he contacted me and brought my bag back to the bar, without so much as an apology, may I add. How hard is it to say "I'm sorry" after being a complete, drunken twat? So, I was now in a pickle. The bar had my bag, but the bar is in Daegu, a city which is 90 minutes away from where I live.

I sent a message to the owner to see if he could sent it to me, but I was summarily ignored. He did respond to a second query this weekend, saying he could sent it, but I've sent him my address and information and have yet to hear anything. I just want my bag back. I need my fucking bag. I'm travelling next week and am running out of time. I didn't leave it at the bar. It was taken by a fool. I was a guest of the bar, there as a performer, so I should hope they help me out and SEND ME THE FUCKING THING. I'll pay for the delivery, I don't care, just give me my bag.

What I don't understand are these douchefucks who get really drunk and take OTHER PEOPLE'S SHIT. It's happened to me before. A while back a very drunk girl - British as well (I sense a pattern) - was cold and wanted to wear my big ol' parka so I said "yeah, put it on for a couple minutes." Again a went to the bathroom and when I came back, she was gone. Her friends told me that she jumped in a cab during my absence. It took nearly twenty-four hours and about thirty phone calls (my cell phone was in the coat) to finally get the thing back.

Okay, I know, I'm not in a great position to wave my scolding finger at other people when it comes to drinking, but what the fuck gives? I get drunk. I yell and drool and sometimes I even fall down, but I NEVER, EVER disappear with stuff that doesn't belong to me, "accidentally" or not. DEATH TO SUCH DRUNKS.

I also think my back right molar is on the edge of going nuclear. Hate.

Yeah I'm in a shitty mood today. So what?