For those wanting a good read on teaching in Vietnam… (obviously not written by me because, well, Hannah is an excellent writer)

Recently I’ve been getting quite a lot of messages on Instagram asking me questions about teaching in Vietnam. Whilst I’m more than happy to answer, I thought it would be useful and perhaps more efficient to make a post compiling all of the questions I’m getting asked on a regular basis. How do you find […]

via Teaching in Vietnam: FAQs — How Far I’ll Pho

compilation of some Tinder poems

if you want me to swipe

left because

I smoke,


and digest the unknown,

I appreciate

the heads up

on how fucking

boring you are.



tell me your height again

especially compared

to that drugged up

docile tiger

you’re cuddled up with

while contemplating


ladyboys in Bangkok

in your bro t-shirt


filtered muscles

cuz I just can’t get

enough of

your fuck boy shit.



can those yoga

poses be used

for proper use?

a vegetarian as well?

a vegan too?!

What are your thoughts

on sperm?

And since you

have no pictures

in your profile

with your face,

I’ll just assume

you’re the prettiest

person alive.

It doesn’t matter,

i’m just addicted to

the matches at this point.



Unleash the beast

with a gentle swipe

and the tip tap tapping of a code,

I find the flame and hold it down,

wait until it wobbles around.

indecision holds me,

tickles me lightly

(because really, I’m just playing at feelings)

So in the end, I let it go.

You’re special, but not

special enough for me

to delete Tinder;


my girlfriend doesn’t know

I’m on here.



swiped left,

flatmate swiped left too;

nightly tradition,


one night,

a match from

the same girl.

we now both

share the same


Thanks, Tinder.



You’re on here,

to make friends?

Don’t you know

what people want to do?

That’s right,

unimaginable things,

to you, on you, with you,

without you.

They don’t care

about your feelings

or bloody interests.

To be blunt,

they just want,

your cunt