el Bastardo and the Danish ride Again

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Ola shiny happy peoples, and Brett

Our subscriber list is now up to 11, which means that entire cricket teams worth of people have lives boring enough for them to religiously follow our activities. Acceptance is always the first step, embrace and own your addiction!

Before we dive straight in to the tales of excess, discovery and other such enlightening activities, this is a juncture for me to state that every single sunset in this country is a breathtaking and beautiful experience. Seriously, some of them reach the stage where you wander around not taking your eyes off of the sky. All the most beautiful shades of purple through pink, orange and others. How descriptive is this being, we can’t even adequately describe the sunset? Well they rock, anyway. We’ll post some photos, so you all can maybe see what we mean.

(Side note: due to Wendy’s o so helpful messages, I will endeavor to wax poetically to refrain from over using adjectives)

This is where I tell you about a crazy Colonial French Achievement, or as I like to call it “When Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys got so Fucked out on Opium that They Built a Stupid Assed casino an insane Number of Mile from Nothing”, A cautionary tale. So in the ‘20’s, those delightful French rapist bastards decided that an entire army of Elephants, Khmers and other “expendable types” could build a road up a mountain (like the mountain isn’t exactly Everest, but it isn’t exactly tiny either, about a click high), and on the top of this mountain for another 30 km, and there in the middle of the nothingness, I know, lets build a casino here. So they did.

In the 70’s, when Camp Khmer Rouge was all the rage in these parts, the casino was used as one of their schools. By school, I mean detention facility and killing field. So we go up this mountain on the back of a Bakkie, on bone jarringly the worst roads seen this side of well, Boksburg. As we get to the top off the mountain, a huge and impressive cloud bank drifts in, as they are wont to do. We approach this evil monument to evil and stupidity, in equal measures, in the most impressive fogbank scene outside of Steven King novel. It was seriously spooky and mad. wandering around the burnt out clapped out completely ravaged shell of a building which has seen untold levels of excess, debauchery depravity and pain, now covered in Graffiti like “Scousers Rule, Dave + Vicki”, with this insane cloud all around, amplifying and distorting noise, creating slight optical illusions. Insane.

The church on the same site was a building so weird that I couldn’t actually stand in it. There were some seriously evil hoodoo there. bleargh

After that, another two hour bone jarring trek down the mountain awaited, and then onto a nice pleasant cruise down the river, seeing another of those incendiary sunsets. Outstandingly beautiful, we gunned a couple of boolies and had ourselves a time. No swimming though

That night the Danish and I had what will go down in the annals of the guest house as the Craziest Debate on earth. After drinking many many more beers, and the rest of the cheer squad had drifted off to rest or have rabid sex like animals, or whatever it was they were up to, Danish and I ordered up a couple of shots of Tequila. Trouble was knocking when I was called back to go out point out tequila. The shots came in Martini glasses. Full Martini glasses. Never one to back down from a fight, down they went.

And then it was on us a screaming table thumping bottle breaking rage of a debate involving all manner of crap. This was one of those existential alcohol-fueled tirades against the man that change nothing, involve all sorts of back peddling, side stepping, jingoistic,(whatever the opposite of jingoistic is), over complication, simplified scenarios. And this was just me. Danish was in full flight to, large forehead all red, from sunburn and passion, in equal measures. It was brilliant. We drank for death and screamed even louder.

Going down for breakfast the next morning, the ENTIRE kitchen stuff broke out laughing. One of them was even rolling on the floor. Guess it was fun for others.

The next day we mosied on down into Sihanouk ville, this bitching little sea side resort which is lamentably lacking in all sorts of massed genocidal traits (that we know of, am not really looking) or temples. Its just a little seaside spot, with some outlying islands, awesome beaches, the warmest sea on the planet (prove me wrong, any of you) and sun.

The first night we went out for supper then whilst the rest of the crew drifted off to “sleep”, well once again that was their story, Danish, Spanish and I began drinking cocktails, in this case long island ice tea’s, to the point where not only both eyes are operating independently, but in all likely hood both ears are too. At about three we begin a trek home. We get caught in this netted volleyball net, took about five minutes to extricate ourselves, then got to the hotel. which was surprise surprise, locked. After going “hello” at least once we decided to climb over the intricate but very spiked gate.

Danish was just about to impale big lefty in what would go down as the most painful thing to happen in full Tucker drunk mode ever, when the gate dude, a brilliant and strange man. let us in. WE trotted threw the gate, threw down our sarongs, and on Spanish’s idea, went off a skinny dipping. I lose track here.

We wake up completely hammered still feeling like the million gods of Hinduism have all shat in my mouth, some of the Christian one’s too, and go on a boat ride to go snorkeling all day. Note to all those to who this is abundantly clear. This is a stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID idea. Small boats and hangovers of death do not mix. El Bastardo lies there amoaning loudly for the first hour, then goes a swimming on the beach for the next 5.

Danish and Spanish highlight there lake of thought by swimming to another island for the heck of it, get cut the crap into by coral, and stabbed by many sea urchins. Dumb asses.

We also fried ourselves into a Nuclear crisp.

Anyway have a happy day

el B

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Comments

[wends]

I didn't make adjective comment
Hey there, now I'm more than happy to take your ranting if I said something, but I'm also ballsy enough to sign my own name... I don't mind the adjectives so guess what babes, you have another fan who has great belief in your physcic skills, uknowwho ain't me, keep fishing!

[Sam]

You're right - I looked forward to reading your blog all day yesterday and was disappointed when there was none. Today, however, I am satisfied. I think you must extend you holiday at least 6 months. Tell your mates to watch those coral cuts - they take forever to heal and get septic without much encouragement.