i might be a cunt...

but im not a t shirt thieving simian fucking cunt...

picture this if you will...

youve just deplaned in sandakan

from a rather depressing short flight over northern borneo

gazing out the window 

at the vast expanses of palm oil plantations

beautifully and terribly symmetrical

where famously epic virgin forest once stood

its punishingly hot

and obscenely humid

you are dripping with sweat

you grab a grab for the hotel in nearby sepilok

after some fun historical bantz about sulu/phillipine claims on sabah

you degrab at the hotel

which is truly at the edge of jungle

only to discover that your room

is truly at edge of the earth

a painful trudge/haul later

you fall in the door

crank up the ac

hang your disgustingly fetid t shirt

on the arm of a chair on the balcony

and fall on your bed in relief

in a pitiful state

after a brief rest and casual swearing session

you go outside to check on

said grim t shirt

only to find it gone!

a painful long trudge back to reception follows

only to be informed that you shouldnt hang things on the balcony

because macaques and occasionally jungle men

half inch them!

bagus!

following a further return trudge

and a salutary nap

your amiable companion retrudges to reception

to be told that the cleaners hadnt seen it

and it must have been the macaques!

leaving you without your fave t-shirt

but 

with the unshakeable image

of a macaque pissing about in the jungle

draped in your quality tism nonsense

ps our neighbours in the adjoining room

with whom we shared the balcony

left their swim gear out on and off for four days

without an issue!

kan ni na!