Raging Bull
Happy New Year!! Haven’t been on the lennnnnnnnghthy mails in a while as the computers or more sluggish than slugs.
All the way back to chrimbo then (god, this is going to be a hore (not really hore, chore, see what I mean) as it seems someone has stuck chewing gum under every key….um, ooo still minty, yum.
Back to Bombay and what a mix (boooo, horrendous joke no.1). Christmas eve was an absolute belter as I fulfilled a lifetime ambition and appeared in a movie. Not blue, unfortunately (pop band or movie I might add). So rocked up at 9am and were whisked off to a secret location and it felt like I was going to Noels House Party, no sign of Mr Blobby as we entered a disused wearhouse and were promptly marched off to wardrobe, arguing that I wouldn’t fit in a wardrobe was futile as I was handed my lavish clothes for the day. It seemed all the sequins had fallen off though as I was handed a rascal pair of flared jeans, a studded t-shirt (which confused me lots that day, as i kept thinking they were my nipples and wondered why I was aroused or indeed cold in the 35 degree heat). And a pair of wooly shoes that looked like they’d either been stolen off a mammoth or fashioned from strange shaped cocunts. What lay in store then? After half an hour of nipple fiddling it was into the warehouse and a giant nightclub scene…..Ooo look a bar, ooo dancers, wow famous bollywood starts!!! What do I do then director? Knee slide? get everyone in a big circle and individually high five them all? No? You want me to dance……………………..
What followed was 5 hours of sober dancing, how the hell do you dance sober? Everything and anything came out of the bag, the hoopla, the birdie song, the pointing finger, the tiger claws, the Nescafe side beans dance and the old reverse hand over the hand. Embarrassing just about sums up how the talent scout was feeling after seeing me in action…I quit in shame after a free lunch. It’s called King of Singh and will haunt me and amuse you forever.
Boxing Day was amazing we met Mike Tyson and Frank Bruno (porky & horrendous joke no.2). Not really (really) we did however take on some Indians at Cricket as is tradition over here. A world all comers XI compromising 2 aussies, 2 indians and 2 brits vs 6 eager Indians, a 6 over money match no less (is that a collective zzzzzzzzz I can hear). We opened the batting and soon discovered this was no friendly affair as balls were hurled at our well, balls. With one bossy git on their team arguing over everything. Our team struck a colossal 42 all out with me hitting a massive 11 before being bowled s.h.l.b.w. (skinny hairy leg before wicket). Then the opposition took to the field with Briggs as the (Im)mobile wicket keeper took 3 catches behind hurling the ball into the air (and about 150 metres down a main road) with them on 32-5 the moment we’d been waiting for a little edge and gone!!!! Victory! No, what’s this this the bossy turnip, captain of the other team and now umpire was demanding a re-bowl because he hadn’t said it was ok to bowl……………What?! The aussie said ‘no worries I’ll just bowl him’ and did just that. I couldn’t contain myself, ripping the stumps from the ground and legging it off in celebration with the other 20 something year old travellers. Rubbing the faces and taunting the opposition. They were all about 9 years old.
Onto hippy paradise of Goa then by a bus sponsored by alton towers, red bull and pro-drink driving producing the new sport of scary amnesia. Here I met a Swedish hippy who was barking. She told me how she found herself in 89’. I presumed she had no friends and was playing hide and seek on her own and unbelievably it had taken 89 seconds to find herself, I mean come on, look you’re right there I can see you. She then like the energy of the way I was texting on my phone??? I thought about telling her if was a lilo and I was looking for a new meaning from the ocean but she went off to smell seaweed. Some of the clothes worn here were absolute Madness, quite literally lots of baggy trousers (baggy trousers repeat to fade)(I await a few virtual punches for that one – sorry…). Asides from laying on sand, I managed to lose half a toe nail after booting a rock, got pooed on (red, berries perhaps?) by a bird and had………………………… ‘The curious incident of the flip flops in the internet shop’
Oh my god (rant coming). Wenr in for ten minutes and came out to find my size 9’s AWOL. Great, someones pinched them. Hold on a second, what’s that ah there they are…! Slipping them on it seemed coco the mother sodding clown had come to the beach and left his size 14 waterskis whilst walking off with my clearly smaller flip-flop sakes. Right now I’m wearing them and also using them to taxi small Indian families around….Unbelievable.
Finding Nemo:
Went fishing and couldn’t basically until our skipper who hadn’t said a word for the whole trip pipes up ‘I’ve got a big one’ half cringeing we turned to face him to see if was indeed waving his willy about only to discover he’d landed a big fish, which he was more then happy to tell us that was his tea. Tried to stone, paper, scissor him for it….
N.Y.E – booze fest surrounded by Indian perv’s all behaving like they were on Yorkshire uncovered , barfing on sandcastles, weeing on curious octopuses (octopi(e)) etc. They were all trying to grope the girls, needless to say my long hair failed me here. As I saw one dive in for a sleaze he got the knuckle dig in the ribs and the word ‘oi’ in his lughole. Booze aggression aside it got really messy when I went to the toilet and flushed it, which emptied the contents onto my feet. All that aside Goa was cool in a 30 degrees hot kind of way.
Now in a place called Hampi. Expecting many hampers, I was disappointed to find a landscape of boulders and rivers. Here been mostly pretending to be Steve McQueen (McQueen – good name for a Scottish Freddie mercury tribte???) and hammering it round on a erm, harley, I mean moped. Been jumping in lakes lots till yesterday, when we noticed the sign saying crocodiles in lakes, since then been a bit tired to swim and not feeling the need to cool off. When the sun goes down it’s a bit nuts as cocnuts are everywhere. Wait lost my train of my thought, trains , no ……ignore all that. Oh yes, a tip build up hunger till dusk and then ride around on a bike in India, simply drive and open mouth, flies, bugs, dune bugs, mossies and small Indian children simply disappear down your throat.
Feel I’m getting old. Met some teenagers who thought everything was ‘well, good’ and ‘well, wicked’. I toyed with the idea of asking them how well they felt ‘well, well?’ or if they’d seen the really ace ‘well’ down the road’ which was a well, well, well’? (if this sounds mental I haven’t been taking my anti-malarial automatic tablets…….wibble)
Got a Right Said Fred look-a-like in our hostel. Hours of childish amusement as we tell him ‘there’s no way I’m disco daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaancing’ (perhaps what I should’ve told the bollywood director)
Ok I know this is long as my fingers are now coated in hubba hubba. Couple more yarns before you delete me forever from your contacts.
Rant No.2. Cash Machine Twat.
Out of money we went to a local town to renumerate. First bank closed as it was being re-filled, ok. Off to another then waiting patiently we noticed a farcical situation developing as a well dressed Indian was performing the hokey-cokey with his bank card, in-out, in-out, shake it all about, you do the hokey you put your library card in, you put chocolate buttons in, you put your big toe in (you get the idea) then take them outuntil you break the sodding machine. Arse. Off to the next one then and unbelievably lord flowery shirt is there again with his crappy bank card licking it, bending it, inserting first sloooooooooooow, then really quick until 8 seconds later and he’d broke that as well. We managed to beat him back to the first bank and formed a human ring around the machine until the cash was secure and the Benny Hill music over.
The Great Escape
Yesterday we were out scooting about in the villages meandering on past a herd of bulls/ buffalo when I turned back to see what was going on, what was going on, was that a bull was running at me, about 2m away in fact, I let a loud pitched yelp containing the word FACK (lose an ‘A’, add on ‘U’) and throttled it straight into a hedge (on purpose of course ,bulls hate hedges, everyone knows that).
Ok so bulls hate me and so do you all now.
Hope all your New Year wishes have come true…..
Bull charges for the lads, Bollywood nipple studded t-shirts for the girls.
Briggsy xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Tags: Bollywood, Goa, Hampi, India, Mumbai
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