Spider fry  

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I was enjoying my first spider outside Phnom Pen market when I heard a highly agitated voice behind me: "Oh my Gaahd, what are yooouu eating?" Turning, I saw an American tourist staring at me with an understandable mixture of revulsion and fascination. Trying to sound casual, I replied: "Spider - would you like a leg?"
She stood for a couple of moments, mouth gaping soundlessly before grabbing her husband, who was busily working a flashy video camera: "Dan! Dan! The boy is eating a spider!" Working on a variant of the Heisenberg uncertainty principle - nothing exists until you video it - Dan swung his costly optics round and I obligingly stuffed the thing in my mouth while she continued to goggle. Once Dan had captured the moment for posterity they left, she still more than a little horrified.
Although my spider wasn't quite as delicious as the Americans' reactions, it was pleasant enough for something that looked like a Hallowe'en prop. My epicuriosity was piqued so I asked the spider seller about her trade. She spoke no English but a nearby taxi-bike driver did and, through him, she explained that she was a mere metropolitan outpost of arachnid cuisine; if I were serious about my spiders - or a-ping as they're known locally - I needed to head to the town of Skuon, some 55 miles north of Phnom Pen.

................. that is how a Combodian's travelog will be... read more @ http://www.rhymer.net/cutsE.htm

Why are the British so much funnier than we are?  

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Got this mail from Nithin, could not stop pasting it here... he he he...