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Sometimes I'm right and I can be wrong. My own beliefs are in my song. The butcher, the banker, the drummer and then, makes no difference what group I'm in. I am everyday people! Yeah. Yeah. There is a blue one who can't accept the green one for living with a fat one trying to be a skinny one.


And different strokes for different folks. And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee. Oh sha sha… We got to live together! I am no better and neither are you. We are the same whatever we do. You love me you hate me you know me and then. You can't figure out the bag l'm in. I am everyday people! Yeah. Yeah. There is a long hair that doesn't like the short hair for being such a rich one that will not help the poor one. And different strokes for different folks. And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee. Oh sha sha. We got to live together! There is a yellow one that won't accept the black one. That won't accept the red one that won't accept the white one. And different strokes for different folks… and so on and so on.

M on the other hand was fantastic company,  she was the most amazing cook,  and would try to make things I liked,  - most things Thai basically,  I'd give her a couple of $ over food budget to get things for herself, but she always got things for me.

Because I clearly liked working so much, they decided they should get me a thai girlfriend to make sure I stayed,  so M asked me if I liked young, medium, or old,  for once I was smart enuf not to say 'you mean 18 to 20,  20 to 25,  and 25 to 30?'

I think M was 32,   when we were waiting anywhere and some young girls were there,  I'd nudge M and tell her to ask them if they were single,  she'd say they were too young,  I'd say, they only looked young and ask them how old they were,  it was kind of her home town,  so embarrassment always overcame desire to help,  she couldn't tell if I was serious anyway.









































I finally got a couple of kits to long suffering customers,  and bought in another couple of sets of moulds to make sure the factory had a range to produce to keep us all afloat,    after assuring me that everything cost nothing to run,  Richard finally told me his loan on the factory meant he needed $3500 / month to survive,  no problem,  make 7 sets of my kit  per month,  I was paying him double china prices,  hopefully for quality, and the security of not having shina copy the design,  and had arranged buyers for his surfboard blanks which it turned out was his first biz venture,  he had got this enormous factory by suing his previous employer.

The night before I left, I almost finished painting an R6 race kit, one piece to go,  and tried to get Richard to promise it would be painted straight after I flew out and dispatched the next day,   as a good customer had prepaid for it,

he had a bit of tidying planned,  but would see what he could do,  it took 19 days to take it to the post office,  and then he told me to send $3500 immediately for operating costs,   'Dude, there's no money,  you have to make parts and send them' .

I came back in the middle of winter,  empty pockets,  friends borrowed to the max,  best moulds in Thailand,

to find 'Mat the druggy had stolen my ute, had it impounded, for using it in a theft,  but a friend I owed money to said he lent the ute to Mat,  so I couldn't have him charged for it.

D went back to his first love surfboards,  in a collaboration with a big name board, but it's not going so well, and said he will send moulds if I send the $ for it, but to hurry, as he might go broke.

18 months later,  I'm less broke,  and ready to tap the friends again for another round,  thinking Malaysia,  easy laws to live and run a biz there,  speeding fines are rumored to be $20,   a lot of paint and resin is made there,  and some people speak English,  or China if Malaysia doesn't seem easy,
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