» The Worst Journey in the World

Singapore to Kuala Lumpur
a couple of old school chums and i have recently returned from travelling round asia...

there were many low points, and many highs, but this one combined the two.

having stayed in the "catholic hostel" (biggest roach infested crap hole ever. proof there is no god, me thinks... or if there is, he hates catholics)we had to leave Singapore on a train bound for KL at about 6 in the morning.

cut to three malnourished english chaps desperatly trying to hail a taxi at 5:45am so we can catch THE ONLY train north. sadly,looking like utter reprobates, no cabbie would stop for us, until a very nice man in a white van pulled over.

"jump in boys" he cried in broken engrish. cue us looking at each other, and thinking... fuck it, and jumping straight in.

he proceeded to regail us with tales about his job running a massage parlour, and would we like some "boom boom?". no mate, we've gotta catch a train now, so hurry up if you want your 50-bloody-pence.

finally, our unlicenced cabbie drops us off at the station, and we bail and leg it it catch the train.

one problem. i'd managed to leave my mini backpak in the back of this guy's van, containing my passport, train tickets, wallet, digital camera, and just about everything of any importance.

cue me running like a madman out for the station trying to catch up with his van which speeds off into the distance.

as you can imagine, i was not best pleased, as there was no way of tracking him down, and i would probably deported, and/or arrested for being a fool.

so the rest of the day was spent at the police station being questioned, (no, i didnt know this man; no he wasnt a proper taxi driver; no, i dont know where his massage parlour/brothel is located; no i didnt have any "boom boom"... etc)the immigration services, and finally the british embassy, where i was expecting to be put inside a box and shipped straight back to blitey (my travelling companions shooting progessively more hateful glances my way as each hour went by).

then, the phone rang. it was a miracle.

our friendly neigbourhood pimp/cabbie had found my bag in the back of his van, and returned it to the railway station! my passport, camera, and all my money was stil there - sadly, the man himself wasnt, so i never got to thank him. what a legend.

with my faith in humanity restored, the next day we continued on our way. and that was that!

"boom boom!"
(Fri 8th Sep 2006, 11:06, More)

» I'm an expert

i am an expert in...
watching monkeys wank.

for my dissertation last year, i had to examine monkey behaviour in captivity - specifically, how the number of human visitors influences their behaviour patterns.

after some months at bristol zoo, i doscovered that we stress the hell out of monkeys, and captivity makes them go quite mental.

they spend a lot of time wanking / shagging (sounds good so far) but also a lot of time prodding their own shit (some people are into that too i understand)... and they hate noisy chav kids the most.

one time a little chav cockflagelator started screaming at the monkeys, so the alpha male charged at the perspex screen. the kid shat himself, and the monkey broke his face.

so you see, i'm an expert.
(Fri 24th Jun 2005, 15:26, More)

» Weird Traditions

at my old school in cambridge...
the head boy is allowed to graze his goat on the school playing fields.

oh, and prefects like my good self were allowed to do unspeakable things to the new boys... ahem...
(Sun 31st Jul 2005, 20:15, More)

» I'm an expert

i am also an expert in...
human evolution. i won't bore you with the details, except to say, i know a lot about monkey brains and pelvic gurdles.
(Fri 24th Jun 2005, 15:36, More)

» When animals attack...

evil little bastards
bees. every bloody year i get attacked by bees and their more shitty wasp cousins.

the worst of these summer insect-wars took place many years ago... having just started at a new school in cambridge, i was keen to impress my new found freinds. so one fine afternoon in the first week, i found myself invited to join in a game of football, whereupon my less than amazing skills became apprent. then, disaster struck. i felt something on the back of my neck, and just went to scratch it, only to then be hit by a blinding pain on my back - then another, and another, and another. the wasp in question managed to sting me seven times before i dropped to my kness screaming and ripped my shirt open, much to the amusement of my new chums.

needless to say, i certainly made a lasting impression.

later that week i got stung again on the sole of my foot in my garden by a bee. a dead fucking bee at that.

i now own a beekeepers suit.
(Thu 2nd Jun 2005, 11:01, More)