There is a heavenly monsoonal breeze this morning, sweeping cool across the lagoon to our west. I hit the beach at 0715 — unusually late, as i was up late watching the wondrous Will Farrel, the dame edna of the americas, take on jimmy fallon on the tonight show.
On the beach were the Pulaki Sextettes, a gaggle of north balinese in skimpy outfits. The north balinese hv a superior hottie fashion sense (see photos below) and, to the north of the groyne, two Banyuatis boys beaming bonhomie. I reflected on the glacial grimness of my countrymen on the beach, compared, say, to the balinese.
My dogs have taken to gamboling in the low tide around a moored outrigger. Yesterday,my favorite pup Possu went legs up and stiff in front of me, as Jackie fought for her life at my ankles: victims of random poisoning by god-knows who. Its not like there's packs of angry dogs around here or anything. Jackie survived; poor Possu was buried by my Amir in our carpark canine cemetry, now overspilling. I can only today talk about it.