MNL ANML

09/07/2025

“Jackpot Dreams and Sticky Rice Schemes: My Encounter with the Thai Lottery”

Let me tell you about the day I almost became a Thai millionaire. Almost.

I was in Bangkok, sweating like a grilled satay under the afternoon sun, (sh*t sobrang init! Abot singit!)
when I noticed a tiny grandmother with gold teeth and a lottery board strapped to her stomach. She looked like a fortune fairy with government-issued paper wings. “Lotto, lotto!” she chirped, pointing to rows of numbers.

I didn’t understand a thing—but I nodded like I was born in Isaan and chose two tickets with random numbers that felt auspicious (a word I love that I don’t even know what it means!). Ay Google!

“Good luck, na ka!” she smiled.

And just like that, I was emotionally invested in Thailand’s greatest national pastime: the government lottery.

For the uninitiated, the Thai lottery is drawn on the 1st and 16th of every month, when the whole country collectively holds its breath, lights incense, and stares at pieces of paper—just as nervously as waiting for an immigration officer at NAIA to call your name next.” (kumusta OFFLOAD business mga sir?)

It’s not just gambling—it’s a spiritual experience. People pray to monk statues, tree roots, and even geckos that walk funny. If a buffalo sneezes near your house, congratulations! Hahahahahaha!
That’s a sign. Buy ticket number 847493.

Me? I dreamed about durian and the number 29. Naturally, I assumed it was divine. I bought five more tickets with 29 in every form: 029, 229, 292, 290… and a random 666 because, you know, spice. (Hi girls!)

Fast forward to the 16th. I was in a 7-Eleven when the draw happened. People gathered around their phones like it was the Thai Super Bowl. Silence fell. The numbers were read out. 1-9-8-3-2-1.

My numbers? Nowhere near. The closest I got was 6… and even that was upside-down.( Baliktaran! Interesting position in life!)

The cashier next to me won 2,000 baht. She cried. I cried. Not for her—just for my 600 baht and my hopes of early retirement.

But here’s the thing: in Thailand, losing the lottery isn’t failure. It’s tradition. It’s a conversation starter. It’s what you do before payday because maybe, just maybe, this time, the temple cat walking clockwise was a sign. (Witwiw!)

So I’ll be back. With more incense. More dreams. And probably more useless tickets. Well no buy, no win.
But hey, ONLINE GAMBLING? Damn! Such a big disaster to every individual. God Bless the victims!

And if I win?
I’m buying a street cart that sells only mango sticky rice—and I’m putting 29 on the menu forever. ( Mabuhay ang rebolusyon!)

Moral of the story:
Don’t fight fate. Just listen to BUTIKI and buy the ticket! Malay mo..

MNL ANML

05/07/2025

That One Night I Tried a Live Squid Shot in Thailand

Let me tell you about the night my dignity almost swam out of my mouth—literally.

By the way this was in JODD FAIRS Ratchada : จ๊อดแฟร์ รัชดา an awesome night market. . “More thrilling than a late-night text from your ex — and way less toxic.”

It all started in a neon-lit food alley in Bangkok where logic and gut instincts go to die. Picture this: flashing lights, sizzling woks, and a very enthusiastic man yelling, “TRY! Very FRESH! STILL MOVING!” And by fresh, he meant it. He handed me a shot glass with nam jim jaew ( Thai chili dipping sauce) and a tiny, wiggling squid inside. I could swear it winked at me. (Ang landi!)

Now, I’ve eaten many questionable things while traveling—crickets, grilled crocodile , that one suspicious puffed rice in Bangladesh but never have I stared into the soul of my food before downing it.

The process was simple:
1. The squid goes into the shot glass.
2. Dip it in nam jim jaew.
3. You slam it like tequila, minus the lime, and plus a live sea creature tap dancing on your tonsils.
Actually just the squid

As I took the shot, the squid tried to file for a restraining order down my throat. Its tentacles flailed like it was auditioning for Thailand’s Got Talent. I coughed. I cried. I may have briefly left my body. (OA joke lang!)

The locals cheered like I just did something heroic. One guy high-fived me, another offered me a second shot (I declined; once is a cultural experience, twice is a fe**sh) oh well it’s not cheap.

The best part? My T-shirt said “MNL ANML,” which now felt extremely accurate because in that moment—I was both.

Moral of the story: When in Thailand, do try the food, embrace the chaos, and if it moves… well, good luck. And if anyone offers you a shot that looks like it belongs in an aquarium, smile politely, say “aroy mak” (very delicious), and pray to the street food gods. ( Sana wag ka magtae!)

Want your own squid shot? Look for the guy yelling “Still moving!” If he offers you a loyalty card… run!

-MNL ANML


Location: JODD FAIRS : จ๊อดแฟร์

05/07/2025

Buwaya!

There I was on a sweltering Bangkok afternoon, weaving through a chaotic icon siam food market with the scent of sizzling meat wafting through the air like a divine invitation—or a trap. I stopped dead in my sweaty tracks when I saw it: a full crocodile, mouth wide open, rotating like a roast pig at a Game of Thrones wedding.

“Crocodile?” I asked, thinking maybe I misunderstood the sign.
“Crocodile!” the vendor beamed proudly, holding up a chunk like Simba in The Lion King.

Look, I’ve eaten some questionable things while in Thailand (I’m still haunted by the fried scorpions), but grilled dinosaur wasn’t on my bingo card. Still, when in Thailand, do as the locals do—question your life choices over fire and chili sauce.

I paid, took a bite, and let me tell you: crocodile tastes like a chicken and a fish had a very dry, leathery baby. Chewy, bold, smoky—like revenge meat. I liked it. Then instantly questioned if I should like it. (Puwedeng pulutan)

A local beside me casually gnawed on a croc rib like it was popcorn chicken and said, “Good with beer.” Sir, it’s good with therapy. (King Ina yan! )

The kicker? There’s even spicy crocodile floss in some stalls. Because nothing says “vacation” like brushing your teeth with meat shavings from a prehistoric predator.

If you ever find yourself in Thailand and think, “Should I eat crocodile today?”—the answer is yes. Not because it’s delicious (jury’s out), but because you’ll leave the market with an incredible story, a new protein source, and possibly a deeper understanding of your own poor decision-making.
(Pero mas masarap pa rin palaka sa bukid! Fight me!)

Verdict: 7/10. Would eat again. Might wrestle it next time with my ukay-ukay lacoste! 🐊🔥🇹🇭

-MNL ANML

05/07/2025

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04/07/2025

Ya Dom The First Aid You Never Knew You Needed (Until You Sniffed It)

Bangkok. Land of smiles, street food, tuk-tuks, and—wait, what in the mentholated madness is this? You stumble across a stall that smells like Grandma’s medicine cabinet got into a fistfight with a eucalyptus tree… and lost. (Amoy Matanda?)
Welcome to the Aroma Assault Market Stall, your one-stop shop for everything green, gooey, and vaguely healing.

Front and center: an army of neon green jars stacked like they’re ready to stage a coup against headaches, nausea, heartbreak (from online gambling) Jesus Christ that should be total banned!
but anyway and maybe your last relationship. These tiny miracles are called ya dom (ยาดม)—Thailand’s iconic nasal inhalers. “Ya” means medicine, and “dom” means to smell. That’s right: medicinal sniffing, now with government approval. In fact, ya dom is officially recognized under the order of the Thai Ministry of Public Health (B.E. 2550/2007), which means you’re basically holding a legal high of fresh minty thunder. (Fly high man!)

You might think, “It’s just mint, It’s just herbs”
but inhale deeply and BAM! Your sinuses are cleared, your karma is realigned, and you’re suddenly fluent in small talk with taxi drivers. (Khop Khun Krap!)

And while you’re stocking up for your “just-in-case” collection, don’t forget souvenirs. Ya dom makes the perfect gift for your overseas relatives:
• For Grandma: “Here, Nanay, Lola, Lolo, Tatay. It’s not Tiger Balm, it’s not Jo Koy ‘s favorite Vicks but it’ll wake you up faster than your rosary alarm.”
• For your cousins abroad: “You can’t afford therapy? Just sniff this.”
Magsawa ka!
• For your coworker in New York: “It’s like Vicks… but with the confidence of a Muay Thai fighter.”

You walk away with 5 jars of green balm, a clearer conscience, and one deeply relaxed nostril. (Salamat naman!)

Pro Tip: Buy the ya dom. Bring it home. Wrap it like a sacred offering. Watch your relatives go from “What is this?” to “Do you have extra?” in under 60 seconds. It’s not just medicine. It’s diplomacy. Inhaled.
Now repeat after me, Inhale… Exhale…
I hope you win all your silent battles in life! Keep fighting! 💪

-MNL ANML

01/07/2025

Erawan Shrine: Bangkok’s Most Dramatic 4-Faced Superstar

Bangkok , a city where you can buy a Prada knockoff, (hey try looking in MBK)
get a foot massage, and pray for your soulmate — all in the same five-meter radius. And nowhere does this delightful chaos collide harder than at the Erawan Shrine: a tiny corner of spiritual intensity, located right between traffic, shopping malls, and what can only be described as divine mayhem.

🛕 So, What Is Erawan Shrine?

This isn’t your average humble temple tucked behind a waterfall. No, the Erawan Shrine is literally located at one of the busiest intersections in central Bangkok — between BTS Chidlom and Siam, right next to a five-star hotel and across from a Louis Vuitton you probably can’t afford. (Saklap nun!)

The shrine is dedicated to Phra Phrom, the Thai version of Brahma, the Hindu God of creation. He’s got four faces, which is either symbolic of divine omnipresence… or the ultimate multitasking nightmare. Locals and tourists flock here daily to pray, offer flowers, light incense, and ask for blessings in everything from love and wealth to, I assume, a better luck in SCATTER. (If you know what I mean) Salot sa lipunan!

A Shrine Born from Construction Anxiety

Back in the 1950s, when the Erawan Hotel (RIP, it’s now the Grand Hyatt) was being built, construction delays kept happening. People blamed it on bad luck, bad spirits, or maybe just bad planning. Solution? Obviously, build a spiritual power outlet right outside the hotel. (Ed Caluag p**i check!)

They erected the shrine, and boom — progress resumed. The hotel opened, the gods were happy, and Bangkok got a new hotspot. Moral of the story: when in doubt, bribe the divine.(Akalain mo!)

The 2015 Bombing: A Tragic Turn in a Sacred Space

Now, here’s where things get serious. On August 17, 2015, a bomb exploded at Erawan Shrine during rush hour, killing 20 people and injuring over 100 — both Thais and foreign tourists.
I was about to walk by the shrine to grab a snack at McDonald's nearby.
Luckily I changed my mind and went for a coffee at CentralWorld exactly the same day few 3 hours before the incident. (Mabuhay ka KAPE!)

It was one of the deadliest attacks in Bangkok’s history, shaking not just the ground but the spirit of the city. Authorities scrambled to investigate. Was it politically motivated? Terrorism? A vendetta against spiritual tourism? No one knew for sure — and the mystery only added more layers to an already mythical place.

But true to Bangkok’s nature — chaotic, unbreakable, and relentlessly spiritual — the shrine was cleaned, rebuilt, and reopened just two days later. You can’t keep a good deity (or street corner) down. (Tindi!)

Not the First Drama

Let’s rewind a bit further to 2006, when a mentally unstable man took a hammer to the Brahma statue. He smashed it — and was almost instantly beaten to death by bystanders, in front of the very god meant to promote peace. Irony level: Olympic Gold! Oscars, Grammy, Pinoy Big Brother. (F*ck! Shut up!

After that, the statue was lovingly restored, like a celebrity who got caught in a scandal and came back more radiant than ever.

When You Make a Wish and Pay in Dance

One of the shrine’s most charming quirks? The traditional Thai dancers performing daily beside the altar. These aren’t random shows. They’re thank-you offerings by devotees whose wishes came true. That’s right — answered prayers come with a dance number. Broadway, but make it Buddhist.

Nothing says “thanks for the divine intervention” like hiring a few dancers to groove beside traffic on Ratchaprasong Road.

📸 What to Expect (Besides a Sudden Life Crisis)
• Floral garlands sold at 5x the market price (but it’s for karma, not bargaining) /-Tatama ka sa lotto
maniwala ka!
• Incense so thick it could summon ancient spirits or just your sinuses. (Mag ready mg antihistamine)
• A constant stream of locals, tourists, monks, influencers, and confused Westerners wondering if they’re in line for the BTS
• Police presence, security checks, and a general air of “don’t even think about messing with this place again”

Final Thoughts: Pray, But Make It Fabulous

Erawan Shrine is not just a spiritual pit stop — it’s a soap opera, holy site, and public spectacle all in one. It has survived hotel curses, violent attacks, and literal explosions, yet still stands tall (well, medium-height) surrounded by flowers, prayers, and possibly someone live-streaming your moment of divine vulnerability. (Yo! for the social media content!)

Whether you believe in divine power, the magic of intention, or just like being part of Bangkok’s dramatic energy — this place delivers. Every. Single. Time.

And remember: you can ask for anything, but don’t forget to tip your dancers.

-MNL ANML

30/06/2025

“Espresso Yourself! The Louis Vuitton Café in Bangkok”

Bangkok pare!. The city of smiles, street food, and… designer lattes?

This isn’t a fever dream from last night’s pad kra pao overdose. Nestled inside the swanky GAYSORN AMARIN mall—at the ground floor, you’ll find The Louis Vuitton Café. A place where cappuccinos cost more than your Grab taxi ride from the airport, and even the croissants have a waiting list.

But I didn’t come here to blend in. I came to protest—in style.

✊ Caffeine and Capitalism: My Mission

I arrived wearing knockoff shades, (tig sengkwenta sa bangketa) a Manila Animal shirt from (HB Clothing)
a beachwalk slides and the air of someone who says “I only thrift” but secretly Googled “How to walk into a luxury store without looking poor.”

My sign read:
“Workers of the world, espresso yourselves!”

As I marched (okay, shuffled politely) to the café entrance, (daming nag seselfie! Yawa! for a content sa socmed!)
the hostess—dressed in head-to-toe monogrammed charm—smiled with the softness of a silk scarf. I smiled back. After all, this was a peaceful protest. Besides, I needed a seat near the plug socket for my phone and my beliefs.

🪑 The Vibe: Minimalist but Make It Obnoxious (damn the internet world!)

Imagine if a spaceship from Paris crash-landed into a dessert bar in Tokyo and decided it was now too good for everyone. Welcome to Le Café Louis Vuitton Bangkok.

There were chairs shaped like handbags. There were macarons more perfectly symmetrical than my face. There were people whispering the words “matcha foam” like it was a sacred chant.

I ordered a latte. It arrived looking like it had a side gig modeling for Vogue Italia. (Swabe)

I stared at it.
It stared back.
Neither of us were ready.

Between sips of my 280baht coffee (okay, that’s the conversion, I’m dramatic but not exaggerating, actually cheaper than I expected), I whispered to nearby patrons:

“Why is this éclair wearing a belt?!”

“I believe in class consciousness, but also… is that a Yuzu tart?”

I held my protest signs aloft (on Instagram Stories). I raised awareness (and eyebrows). I may have eaten the evidence (because the yuzu tart was kind of life-changing).

Final Thoughts from the Frontlines

So, what does a protest look like inside a Louis Vuitton café?

It looks like a rebel wearing Uniqlo from ukay-ukay and holding a crumbling pain au chocolat while sipping overpriced rebellion from a monogrammed cup.

And it feels good.

Because sometimes, protest doesn’t have to be loud. Sometimes, it can be a side-eye from across the velvet rope. A smirk behind a spoon of pistachio mousse. A single person asking:

“Do I need this… or am I just bored and craving almond milk validation?”

Answer: both.

So go forth, sugod!
Storm the barricades.
Take selfies with the gold teaspoons.
Leave no luxury untouched.
If it satisfies your soul not the society, then have fun! It’s your life.
But remember: always tip your barista.

Even if they’re wearing LV gloves.

P.S. prices are not bad actually compared to having a coffee in Burj Al Arab. Bangkok is still way cheaper for pretenders!
Kung nakuha mo tama ka!

-MNL ANML

29/06/2025

Thai Salted Crust Tilapia: The Fish That Deserves a Netflix Special

Thailand. Land of temples, tuk-tuks, and terrifyingly spicy chilies that make you question your life decisions.
(Pangkain na pinang scatter mo pa!)
But nestled between the mango sticky rice and papaya salad lies a local culinary hero that never asks for attention but always steals the spotlight: Pla Pao — the salted crust tilapia.

You’ve probably seen it before. A whole fish, looking like it was dragged out of a salt avalanche, slowly grilling on roadside barbecues like it’s just chillin’. But don’t be fooled by its crusty, snow-covered exterior — inside, it’s a steamy, juicy flavor bomb waiting to blow your flip-flops off.

First Impressions:

Let’s talk appearance. Imagine a fish that lost a snowball fight. It’s covered head-to-tail in chunky sea salt, looking more like a winter escapee than a tropical treat. But that salt? (Mukhang maalat) That’s the magic. It seals in moisture while turning the skin into something you’d peel off like a crispy gift wrap.

Inside, it’s a “I-did-not-expect-this” moment. (S**t!) Flaky, tender meat. Fragrant herbs stuffed inside — lemongrass, kaffir lime leaves, and sometimes that one leaf you’re never quite sure if you’re supposed to eat.

How to Eat It Like a Local (a.k.a. Don’t Be Weird)

Step 1: Peel the skin like you’re opening a sacred scroll. Tamis ng unang tikim!

Step 2: Scoop out the flesh, dunk it into nam jim seafood sauce — a green, zesty, punch-in-the-face mixture of lime, garlic, chili, and attitude. Panalo!

Step 3: Wrap it in lettuce or cabbage like a mini fish burrito. Bonus points for adding noodles and herbs.

Step 4: Cry happy tears. Thank Buddha. Repeat. Hallelujah!

📍Where to Find This Salty Superstar?

You’ll spot them outside Bangkok markets, beachside stalls, and roadside grills like VIPs on a red carpet of charcoal. They’re always just vibing, spinning slowly on bamboo skewers like they’re in a fishy spa retreat.

Pro tip: If the vendor’s got a plastic stool and a fan that looks like it’s from 1982 — you’re in the right place. Yun na yun!

Fun Fact:

The salt isn’t just for taste. It keeps the fish juicy and tender by forming a heat-proof shell. Kind of like fish armor — but edible. Gets mo?

So next time you’re wandering Thailand with a nice and cole Leo beer in hand, sunscreen half-applied, (or kahit wala!) and wondering what smells so damn good — follow the smoke. And listen “if you smell what ‘The Rock’ is cooking! Follow the salt. Follow the fish.

Because Pla Pao isn’t just food. It’s an experience. A crispy, flaky, herb-stuffed, nap-inducing experience.

Pulutan espesyal!

-MNL ANML

27/06/2025

Bangkok on Two Wheels: Dodging Traffic Like a Local Hero 🛵💨

There I was, trapped in Bangkok’s legendary traffic jam — a sea of red brake lights and sweaty commuters questioning their life choices. My Grab app sighed. Google Maps laughed. Even the street dogs looked bored. (tang in*!) Now I had two options: slowly dissolve into my tuk-tuk seat, or embrace the chaos. (Bahala na!)

Pasok! the motorcycle taxi.

Now, if you’ve never hugged a stranger while weaving through traffic at
70 km/h with your knees tucked tighter than a budget airline seat, have you even lived?

My driver, whose name I never caught because helmets and existential screaming made it hard to chat, zoomed through gridlock like Moses parting the Red Sea. (Biyak!) Except instead of a staff, he had a flip-flop and a horn that screamed, “Get out of the way, we’re late!” (Kupal!)

We squeezed through cars with millimeters to spare. (Sabay apat na Ama Namin)
Sidewalks? Optional roads. Lanes? Merely suggestions. I clutched the back of the seat, my dignity, and probably his kidneys. ( hail mary full of grace the….) Oh man I prayed!

I saw Bangkok like I never had before: from the curbside of chaos, the underbelly of urban speed. A granny gave me a thumbs up. A street vendor tried to sell me grilled squid at a red light- (Smells damn good by the way)
Life was moving—fast. A blink of an eye things might have changed.

And just like that, I arrived. Sweaty. Windswept. (Sayang ung gel) Well atleast Alive. Five minutes flat, what would’ve taken 45 in a car.

So next time you’re stuck in traffic, do what the locals do:
Wrap your legs around a stranger, close your eyes, and trust the ride.
Makakarating ka rin.
-MNL ANML

26/06/2025

Thailand’s Social Security Office (SSO) with a Smile (and Maybe a Massage)”

When you think of Thailand, what comes to mind? Spicy street food, golden temples, budget massages, and… the Social Security Office? Teka, what?

That’s right — if you plan to live, work, or even just spend more than a tourist visa’s worth of time here, you’ll probably meet the unsung hero of Thai bureaucracy: the SSO, or Social Security Office.

SSO: The Short Story

If you’re legally employed in Thailand, congratulations! — you’re probably already contributing to the Social Security Fund (SSF). It’s automatically deducted from your salary (5%, capped at 750 THB/month), and matched by your employer. This gives you access to a buffet of benefits:
• Healthcare at a designated hospital (think of it as your medical home base),
• Sick leave & maternity benefits,
• Unemployment support if your job unexpectedly goes “sabai sabai” (read: disappears) Nag resign ka, kupal yung boss.
• Disability & death compensation (okay, less fun but important),
• Pension for long-term contributors (yes, Thailand plays the long game too).

How to Register (Without Losing Your Sanity)

New to Thailand’s work scene? Your HR department will usually take care of your SSO registration. If you’re going freelance, self-employed, or working for a foreign company, things get more “DIY with a dash of Google Translate.”
-Hey Google, anung ulam?

You can register as a voluntary insured person under Section 39 or 40 depending on your previous SSO history or employment status. A trip to your local SSO office, a passport copy, and a few forms later, and voilà — you’re part of the Thai social safety net.

Bonus: Registration usually comes with zero lines and maximum fans. No, seriously. Some SSO offices are so well air-conditioned, you might forget you’re dealing with bureaucracy.
Better than an Airport without proper air conditioning.

Medical Benefits: Because Pad Thai Can Backfire, you know if you may also ever try those fried insects for a content or in short VIEWS.

One of the most practical perks? Free or subsidized healthcare at your assigned hospital. Once you’re registered, you’ll be linked to a local hospital — from big names like Ramkhamhaeng or Vibhavadi, to smaller provincial facilities that may surprise you with their efficiency (and their soft-spoken nurses in pastel pink).

Need meds? Covered.
Need surgery? Covered.
Need a flu shot after Songkran? Covered.

But don’t expect the spa experience. You’ll need to bring your ID, be patient, and possibly download a little Thai to navigate the queues. Well, use the modern day gadgets, and sure you’ll be fine.

SSO & COVID? Yes, They Showed Up.

During the pandemic, Thailand’s SSO stepped up. From unemployment compensation to supporting businesses, they made digital claims a thing (hallelujah! Bamboo) and even helped cover some COVID-related treatments. It wasn’t perfect, but hey — when the system works, it really works.
What’s up PHILHEALTH?!

Witty Tip for Expats:

If you’re working under a company, check your hospital assignment — many employees don’t even know where they’re registered until they need an X-ray. You can change your hospital once a year during the “SSO migration season” (yes, that’s a thing — and it’s as exciting as it sounds for admin nerds).

Final Word: So SSO What?

SSO may not make it onto your Thailand bucket list next to Koh Phi Phi or Doi Inthanon, but it should be on your radar if you plan to work here longer than your favorite tuk-tuk ride.

It’s one of the few bureaucratic systems in Southeast Asia that — with the right paperwork — actually works. And that alone makes it worthy of a toast. Preferably with Thai iced te with Kluay Ping ( grilled banana)

Have SSO questions? Need a guide through the maze of Thai forms and hospital codes? I’m not expert but you can Drop a comment, or better yet — ask your HR rep (with snacks, it helps).
P.S Make sure it’s not durian please.

-MNL ANML

25/06/2025

The Reclining Buddha

Bangkok traffic may be wild, (mala EDSA!) tuk-tuks may zoom like they're in Fast & FURIOUS 1-100 Thai Drift, but inside Wat Pho, everything slows down — especially one very chill, very horizontal deity.

Ladies and gents, meet the Reclining Buddha — 46 meters of pure golden zen. That's right, 46 meters. This Buddha is so long, if he stood up, he’d probably need his own passport category.

I walked in expecting a peaceful statue. What I got was a spiritual mic drop. His face? Calm.Chill.
Serene. The kind of look you get after quitting your job, blocking your ex, and finally drinking enough water. Enlightenment? Right?

Then there are the feet. Not just big — five meters long, covered in intricate mother-of-pearl designs. Basically the Louis Vuitton of soles. Even Buddha’s feet got drip.

I dropped coins in all 108 bowls (you’re supposed to for good luck). Sabay taya sa Lotto. By the end, I was spiritually blessed and financially... well, let’s just say I skipped Starbucks that day. Side street Thai Tea is way better.

And here's the thing — despite the crowds and camera flashes, something about that giant, reclining figure really hits you. A reminder to slow down. To breathe. To lie down more often without feeling guilty about it. The Real treasure is Peace of Mind.

So if you're ever in Bangkok, don’t miss this chill king of enlightenment. Because sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do... is absolutely nothing. Tama? And look fabulous while doing it.
- MNL ANML

---
Travel Tip:
Wat Pho is also home to Thailand’s oldest massage school — yes, Buddha naps and you can get a massage next door. Coincidence? I think NOT. Malaki na kayo!

---

📍 Wat Pho, Bangkok
💸 Entry: 200 THB (It may have changed)
Vibe: 11/10 Zen
Enlightenment Level:Solem

24/06/2025

Thailand’s Booze Curfew: Sip Happens, But Only at the Right Time.

So you’ve landed in Thailand, ready to hit the beach, (kinulang ka pa sa Pilipinas) eat your weight in pad thai, and crack open a cold one. But hold on, thirsty traveler (wasalak)—this ain’t your typical party-all-day kind of place. Here in the Land of Smiles, alcohol has a curfew. Mismo! you read that right.

Drink o’clock in Thailand only runs from 11 AM to 2 PM and again from 5 PM to midnight. Try buying a beer outside those hours and you’ll be met with a polite shake of the head. The fridge is locked like it’s hiding government secrets.

This rule has been in place since 1972 — and no, it’s not just a quirky tradition, it’s actually law. And to me it’s brilliant! You won’t find giant beer billboards dominating the skyline either. In fact, Thailand has some of the strictest alcohol advertising laws in the world. TV? Forget about it. Public posters? Rare. The only time you might spot a Chang banner in public is during a festival — and even then, it’s probably hidden behind a mango stand.

Honestly? I kinda love it.

This is what they really mean by “Drink Responsibly.” Not just a tiny warning on the bottle, but actual rules that make you think before you drink. It’s like the country said, “You can party, but let’s be smart about it.”

Of course, if you’re in the booze business, this law might feel like a buzzkill. But for the rest of us? It’s refreshing — like an ice-cold Singha at 5:01 PM.

So the next time you’re wandering a 7-Eleven , wondering why the beer fridge looks locked down like a crime scene — just check your watch. And maybe… hydrate. Tubig muna. Welcome to Thailand!
-MNL ANML