I was shocked, dismayed, heartbroken and crestfallen to learn that I was not being automatically awarded the prestigious “Best K-Blog” title by the Korea Observer’s internationally-renowned K-Blog Awards. I mean, not even in the top five! I know I’ve been busy and all but… C’MON!

Wait… waitwaitwait.

What the FUCK?

There’s a fucking K-Blog awards?

I can picture it now. A room full of sunken-chested, pasty white social rejects from the western world wearing comicbook-themed shirts, rubbing elbows with greasy, fat white chicks who look like they either just crawled out from under a Greenpeace protest bus or from a Forever 21 clearance sale dogpile. Bunch of bloggers jerking themselves off and giving a reach-over to whomever linked back to them.

“Whoa? You’re ‘SeoulNoodleSucker’? Man, I love your blog! Those pictures of kimchi really brought the traditions of this ancient land to light for me.”

“Thank you! I used a 17mm macro lens with a blue-green filter to really try to bring out the granules of red pepper powder, oh so traditional. Aum shanti.”

“Did you see ‘MuffinTopEatsKorea’? She’s just keeping it so real with her 24-piece series on temple stay.”

“But I really like…”

It’s only in my head but I want to choke the life out of each one of them, starting with that reprehensible skinny-fat, balding, arrogant fuckwad Adam Carr… choke him with his own neon nunchucks.

You aren’t writers. You aren’t talented. You’re desperate to find some validation and relevance in this pathetic ghetto lottery winner kuntry. You take home your 30 grand a year, in your 30s, and resist the urge to hang yourself from your 4th hand wardrobe with a belt by imagining that, not only is Korean Kulture beautiful and noteworthy (it isn’t), but that people give a motherfuck about your thoughts on it (they don’t).

Best Korean food blog? Are you fucking kidding me? Best what? Roadkill? Tripe? Compost? Korean food has one thing going for it, and one thing only, so let me save all you Klown food bloggers a whole lot of screen space: it contains obscene amounts of a pepper that was only recently introduced to Klown by the Japanese…. and it’s a goddamned good thing too, since that omnipresent pepper brutally assaults and blunt-force-trauma-numbs the taste buds so unforgivingly that someone unfortunate enough to be eating Klown food doesn’t know that they are eating what most countries would literally have in the compost bin or pig slop trough. That’s it. Klown food anesthetizes your sense of taste so that you can get it down without gagging. Want to see something funny? Watch that Klown show where they send a bunch of brainwashed, bible-thumpy-type Klown fucktards out around the world to forcibly shove bibimbab in the faces of people in places like Europe. Being polite, in the way one might to the friendly advances of a severely developmentally-delayed child, watch as the Europeans grimace out the kindest smile they can while choking down the foul “weeds and an egg on rice” shit while the Klowns stand around proudly, declaring the world won over. Makes me want to run them through with a chopstick to the eye.

Want a true take on Korea food and not some self-deluded bullshit about this absolute garbage that passes for sustenance? Write a journal of food poisonings. I got food poisoning once in my life before moving to Klown, in Mexico. I have had it more than a dozen times here, most within my first year when I was still trying to be sensitive and open to new cultural experiences. What a fucking moron I was. I’m lucky I didn’t die. The combination of the severity of the food poisoning, coupled with the incompetence of Klown “doktors”… well, it would have made an interesting blog for sure. “Hour 14: I’m having hallucinations that a giant duck is eating my intestines. I have, once again, shat myself in a torrent of hot lava shit in bed while trying to let loose some gas to alleviate the pressure. I think I might just lie in it and wait for the sweet embrace of death.”

As my French friend, let’s call him Oscar, is fond of reminding people, Klown has not one single Michelin-starred restaurant. It’s not a “cuisine” you find served at the finest hotels and restaurants world wide. Why? Because it’s fucking peasant fare. Made by peasants, for peasants, with all the grace, subtlety and nuance of a 9-fingered, rheumy, toothless peasant just trying to boil enough shoelaces to survive another hellish day.

The other categories are equally cringe-worthy. Culture? You’ve got to be fucking out of your syphilitic mind. Spit, shout, steal, “sorry”, suicide. The 5 esses are 90% of what you need to know. Advice? I saw one that actually, and I wish I was making this up, “why you should quit your job and move to korea to teach”. Holy fucking shit. You sadistic, sociopathic motherfucker. I know misery loves company, but you should be tried for humanitarian crimes, tied to a pole and shot repeatedly. Music? Fuck you. Art? Seriously? Fuck you. Korean “art” is like a high school final project exhibition, only more derivative.

But I get it. I get it. We expats have made our bed here. Some have to try and imagine that bed is an actual mattress rather than a piss-stained cardboard box covering the vomit pile inside a doorway. If you want to be a “glass is half full” kinda expat, that’s cool. But it isn’t a full keg, shithead.

Time spent trying to find value, culture and soul in Klown is completely and utterly fucking wasted. Go get another job. Make more money before these koreaboo kunt illegals taking 20k an hour for privates fuck us all out of a living wage. That is the sum total of everything this kuntry is actually good for, both in the immediate sense and long term – a work camp. Your 2.5m a month? That’s what a MacDonald’s worker makes in Australia. You’re not a “world adventurer” or “ninja educator” or whatever the fuck else you tell yourself to get you through another night without lighting up a charcoal briquette in your one-room. You’re making what amounts to minimum wage in the first world, without any of the advantages and niceties that first world civilization affords.

Fucking K-Blog awards. Jesus. Might as well have a beauty contest for homeless women, or political campaign training for inmates serving life sentences. What’s the prize? Sam Hammington is going to titty-fuck you?

I have had a few good posts in the chamber but haven’t had the time to actually put them together… but this fucking K-blog award taint-licking bullshit just made me work too hard to keep my food down (and not because it was traditional Korean fare) to let it pass.