In my travels, I've gained an appreciation for those Lonely Planet or whathaveyou guidebooks.  Yes, I know, I know, they're cheesy and hideous.  And of course I'd prefer not to use one at all.  Everyone wants to not use the guidebook and be carefree.  You don't want to be that tourist with your nose in a guidebook like chump.  Of course not.  But what you really want is for your traveling companion to be the one who totes the book and does that all for you.  Somehow I've ended up traveling with people who disdain the guidebook even more than me, which means that I'm the one stuck carrying it.  And you know what? They come in handy, ok? 

Here's the absolute worst part about those books:  after your trip is done, you're stuck with this ugly book on your shelf.  Taunting you even more because it tells everyone who comes over exactly where you been and that you required a guidebook for it.  Mortifying.  I've tried as best as possible to shove these books off on friends who've mentioned a whiff of interest of traveling to those places.  You don't want people coming over and the first thing they see is that giant white text on the thick blue spin.  "Oh, you went to Spain?!"   

Anyway, point is, we now know DJ Denim over here has been to Thailand.