A time of peace, prosperity, and the dawn of the newest age of globalism. A guy could get laid every night of the week -- as long as he didn't mind hearing girls cry about their abusive stepfathers for a couple hours afterwards.
Today's installment goes out to the ladies. (I know I'm skipping the 80s, but nobody traveled in the 80s except spies, diplomats, and heavy metal bands going to play in Japan.)
Click here to see the other installments in the BOOKS ABOUT DRINKING, FUCKING, AND TRAVELING series
Long before the unmitigated pap of EAT PRAY LOVE, there were the 90s chicks.
They ate, traveled, and loved, and they skipped the praying, opting instead for the rich stuff of life in the 90s -- tattoos, plenty of sex and abortions, and weepy monologues about their painful family experiences.
(I am playing a bit fast and loose here, though, as these first two books were released in the 20teens but they were about stuff that HAPPENED in the 90s. Since I did the same thing myself, though, I can't really criticize.)
Jillian Lauren in the mid-90s was working as a stripper and escort in New York, like all 90s chicks, when she accepted an offer to go live with the Royal Family in Brunei as a ... consort? concubine? escort? I don't know what she put on her tax return.
Her memoir SOME GIRLS: MY LIFE IN A HAREM describes this time. She doesn't travel much in and around Brunei or SE Asia, except to the mall, and spends most of her time in agreeably boring captivity on the luxurious royal estate. (It was in fact the playboy brother of the Sultan, Prince Jeffri, who used her services, although she did toss one to the Sultan himself.) She visited them a couple of times, spending a couple years there, only returning to New York once for more 90s tattoed stripper sex abortion shenanigans.
She ended up following the True Path of 90s chicks, marrying a guy from an indie 90s rock band, and writing memoirs. And adopting an African kid.
Soul sister to Jillian Lauren is the probably-even-more-annoying and self-named Cheryl Strayed, author of the memoir WILD: FROM LOST TO FOUND ON THE PACIFIC CREST TRAIL
When tattoos, heroin, and sex aren't enough to help her get over her mother's death -- even cheating on and divorcing her nice husband doesn't help -- she decides to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. (She does stop to bone a guy in Seattle on the same day that Jerry Garcia dies, of course. I mean, she's a 90s chick, she had to.)
There's a movie with Reese Witherspoon you can watch, should you not be inclined to tackle the rather over-written book. She's naked in it, too. (I love the way actresses get naked for their serious roles now, as opposed to the old days when they got naked in exploitation roes when their careers were fading.)
Cheryl Strayed too has followed the 90s chick true path -- becoming a soccer mom and going on Oprah.
Now for a book that was actually RELEASED in the 90s, but is probably more about the late 80s, I can recommend BREAKFAST IN BABYLON by Emer Martin. Though it was popular in the 90s, it's pretty much forgotten now -- Google searches for "Breakfast in Babylon" usually lead one to pancake houses in Babylon, NY.
But this book -- which I haven't read in a while but which I enjoyed very much back then -- is about a young Irish backpacker-type chick who ends up living on the streets of London, Paris, and other cities in Europe in the punk-rock-yet-begging-for-change thing that was popular at the time -- we called them "gutter punks" in the US but I don't think that term is used in the book.
The centerpiece of the story is the protagonist's abusive relationship with an older Puerto-Rican-American LSD dealer, but it's the grubby atmosphere of drugged-out expat losers in cheap hotels and shared squat housing that really impressed me.
She's traveled considerably more than either of the two above, living in Paris, London, the US, and the Middle East, and she continues to write well-regarded fiction, much of which has international themes and settings.
It's not even available on Kindle -- so 90s! -- but you can order a used copy on Amazon for a penny plus shipping. You might not regret it!
So put on your flannel shirt and put on some nice 90s music, and enjoy the early days of an era of globalism that seems to be rapidly drawing to a close.
They ate, traveled, and loved, and they skipped the praying, opting instead for the rich stuff of life in the 90s -- tattoos, plenty of sex and abortions, and weepy monologues about their painful family experiences.
(I am playing a bit fast and loose here, though, as these first two books were released in the 20teens but they were about stuff that HAPPENED in the 90s. Since I did the same thing myself, though, I can't really criticize.)
Jillian Lauren in the mid-90s was working as a stripper and escort in New York, like all 90s chicks, when she accepted an offer to go live with the Royal Family in Brunei as a ... consort? concubine? escort? I don't know what she put on her tax return.
Her memoir SOME GIRLS: MY LIFE IN A HAREM describes this time. She doesn't travel much in and around Brunei or SE Asia, except to the mall, and spends most of her time in agreeably boring captivity on the luxurious royal estate. (It was in fact the playboy brother of the Sultan, Prince Jeffri, who used her services, although she did toss one to the Sultan himself.) She visited them a couple of times, spending a couple years there, only returning to New York once for more 90s tattoed stripper sex abortion shenanigans.
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| Source: Wikipedia / Larry D. Moore CC BY-SA 3.0 |
Soul sister to Jillian Lauren is the probably-even-more-annoying and self-named Cheryl Strayed, author of the memoir WILD: FROM LOST TO FOUND ON THE PACIFIC CREST TRAIL
When tattoos, heroin, and sex aren't enough to help her get over her mother's death -- even cheating on and divorcing her nice husband doesn't help -- she decides to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. (She does stop to bone a guy in Seattle on the same day that Jerry Garcia dies, of course. I mean, she's a 90s chick, she had to.)
There's a movie with Reese Witherspoon you can watch, should you not be inclined to tackle the rather over-written book. She's naked in it, too. (I love the way actresses get naked for their serious roles now, as opposed to the old days when they got naked in exploitation roes when their careers were fading.)
Cheryl Strayed too has followed the 90s chick true path -- becoming a soccer mom and going on Oprah.
Now for a book that was actually RELEASED in the 90s, but is probably more about the late 80s, I can recommend BREAKFAST IN BABYLON by Emer Martin. Though it was popular in the 90s, it's pretty much forgotten now -- Google searches for "Breakfast in Babylon" usually lead one to pancake houses in Babylon, NY.
But this book -- which I haven't read in a while but which I enjoyed very much back then -- is about a young Irish backpacker-type chick who ends up living on the streets of London, Paris, and other cities in Europe in the punk-rock-yet-begging-for-change thing that was popular at the time -- we called them "gutter punks" in the US but I don't think that term is used in the book.
The centerpiece of the story is the protagonist's abusive relationship with an older Puerto-Rican-American LSD dealer, but it's the grubby atmosphere of drugged-out expat losers in cheap hotels and shared squat housing that really impressed me.
She's traveled considerably more than either of the two above, living in Paris, London, the US, and the Middle East, and she continues to write well-regarded fiction, much of which has international themes and settings.
It's not even available on Kindle -- so 90s! -- but you can order a used copy on Amazon for a penny plus shipping. You might not regret it!
So put on your flannel shirt and put on some nice 90s music, and enjoy the early days of an era of globalism that seems to be rapidly drawing to a close.
8 comments:
Oh if you think living and fucking abroad is so dated go stop blogging and talking about it, crawl off into a hole and die. Or live happily ever after with your Russian fuck-doll. There I said it.
That sounds like the testy complaint of a guy who's not enjoying living abroad much anymore.
And I wasn't saying it was dated, I was saying it's not as original as a lot of internet doofuses think it is. By the last line, about the recent age of globalism coming to an end, I was referring to the general international political climate of increased nationalism, isolationism, and tightening borders.
Alternately, anonymous, you could stop reading.
Yeah, X, you should be out there fucking around and living it up! Like Tucker Max and Neil Strauss!
hey X, I clicked on one of your old posts about Saudi, and you said that it's possible to buy human growth hormone in pharmacies there. Were you joking or is this true? I'm heading out there and would be interested. Do you have any more details? Is it in powder form, to add water and inject? Are needles and sterilised water also easily available? What kind of price are we talking? Any particular pharmacy? Drop me a line back here or via email, would be most grateful. Cheers, John.
Hee hee. Yeah, at that time it was possible to buy it, I don't know about now, rules change all the time. They sold it in gel form (that I saw) at the pharmacies. Don't know about needles, but given the amount of diabetes over there I'd imagine you can get it. I didn't see what it costs.
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