Man, I’m really struggling to write anything even remotely interesting that’s not wedding related these days. How did this place suddenly become so boring, my writing so monotonous? Maybe it’s the weather, which is fast approaching Bangkok’s version of [puts two fingers of each hand in the air in mock quotation marks] Winter.

The rainy season is supposed to have finished, yet every day it buckets down from the sky (duh), washing all the pollution, piss and pooch poop from the sois into the main streets where it sits there for hours stagnating away and making the general atmosphere of the place even stinkier and more humid than before. The other evening it pissed down so hard in the space of 30 minutes you’d have to say it “shat down”, causing widespread flooding down Soi 21. No doubt there were plenty of wet punters and soggy makeup just down the road at Cowboy that night.

I guess no recent blog entry would be complete without some wedding shenanigans, and this weekend just gone had its fair share. Normally in the west it’s considered bad luck for the Gloom to see the bride in her dress before the big day, but of course “TIT” – this is Thailand, and everything is done without our western notion of rhyme and reason. So on Sunday off we went to the wedding studio to have our photos taken in full battle-dress and our best fake smiles.

But get this. Not only did we get dressed up in full wedding gear and makeup (not me, that’s fer bloody pooftas!) the blushing Bride also got photos in two different wedding dresses! How we’re going to explain that to the young ‘uns in twenty years time I do not know. Of course there was also the obligatory “faked” casual photos as well, which could have gone a lot better – here’s one we didn’t decide to get blown up at 16×20:

No need to say cheese, I think we’ve got that covered, thankyou very much

The best part (or the worst, depending on who you were) of the day was during the outdoor shoot in a large park south of On Nut where we’d carefully carried the brand new silk bridal gown over the grass and mud to get to the location. The photographer directed us towards some rocks in the middle of a foul and foetid creek where we were to pretend to gaze longingly into each others eyes while he snapped away.

I was performing my part well, staring intently and lovingly into the eyes of my Fiance, when all of a sudden she lost about a foot and a half in height and a gigantic splash could be heard followed by a lot of shouting from the camera crew, as the stunning white silk number the Bride was wearing took on some new and decidely eco-friendly hues.

There she was, standing knee deep in stinking marsh water looking up at me in shock, fighting back the tears which threatened to destroy an hours’ worth of the Katoey makeup artists’ best work and looking to me for answer as to how she should react – just like a four year old who doesnt know whether to laugh or cry when it falls on its arse.

Still it could have been worse – it could have been me in my brand new fake Dolce & Gabanna suit that my local Indian tailor had whipped up for me that went in the dirty drink.

You’re also probably wondering if I laughed out loud when it happened. Laugh? Did I fu…