Vung Tau is a confusing little place.
You can arrive by hydrofoil or drive.
Apparently, it's an island.
I was so shit faced for the two weeks I was there, I was surprised I ever got off the island.
Usually, I can handle my booze well.
I just don't drink it.
But you when got an alcoholic as your tour guide, it's hards to stay sober.
He was generous with the hash.
But now we were coming again, for a gig.
I managed to get onto the island easy enough.
Surprisingly, Google Maps even works in Vietnam.
I had no idea how to change languages but for some reason, the technology still works when I'm in a foreign country.
I know that technology drives us.
I try and tell Google as little about my whereabouts as possible.
But for some reason, they still know where I've been.
'Log out of your gmail and that way you won't be traced,' said Max.
He was a bit savvier than me.
So what do you use for navigation, I asked him.
'I use Apple Maps, on a Safari browser, so no pop up ads or tracer cookies.'
Well fuck a duck, Max was clued in.
He raised his eyebrow.
'I work for the fucking CIA, being in the know is one of the requirements for employment.'
Well, then why the fuck are you employing me?
Max was quiet. I could tell he was looking forward to a tour of the French fort on the cliffs where we had arranged a rave party this coming Saturday evening.
You can arrive by hydrofoil or drive.
Apparently, it's an island.
I was so shit faced for the two weeks I was there, I was surprised I ever got off the island.
Usually, I can handle my booze well.
I just don't drink it.
But you when got an alcoholic as your tour guide, it's hards to stay sober.
He was generous with the hash.
But now we were coming again, for a gig.
I managed to get onto the island easy enough.
Surprisingly, Google Maps even works in Vietnam.
I had no idea how to change languages but for some reason, the technology still works when I'm in a foreign country.
I know that technology drives us.
I try and tell Google as little about my whereabouts as possible.
But for some reason, they still know where I've been.
'Log out of your gmail and that way you won't be traced,' said Max.
He was a bit savvier than me.
So what do you use for navigation, I asked him.
'I use Apple Maps, on a Safari browser, so no pop up ads or tracer cookies.'
Well fuck a duck, Max was clued in.
He raised his eyebrow.
'I work for the fucking CIA, being in the know is one of the requirements for employment.'
Well, then why the fuck are you employing me?
Max was quiet. I could tell he was looking forward to a tour of the French fort on the cliffs where we had arranged a rave party this coming Saturday evening.
