Merry, Merry, Merry-go-round ...

Bubbles... bubbly...babble...

In a very unlikely case anybody is still able to read in these high-octane, very liquid times, he or she must be:

a) a Buddhist monk in his wi-fi equipped cell
b) a convict for latest mass murders waiting for a chair
c) a vegetarian
d) crazy as me

As none of those suspects need any extra wisdom-based input, this post will be a touch shorter.
That's it, for this year.

A Clandestine Taliban Cell in Bali

Police officer Mr. Younoseeme file photo

Undercover law and fun enforcer, Mr. Younoseeme, tracked down vicious and seriously mentally challenged fraction of Taliban retards in Bali, in the village of Pemuteran.
What are they doing there?

a) their goal is to bomb the shit out of Christian holidays
b) as they are too stupid to figure out on what date the holidays are they bomb for days and days
c) during breaks they scratch their private parts and lick their fingers
d) firecrackers they buy from local explosive dealers Toko Suki and Toko Serbu

All of the eight tourists in Pemuteran, remaining last six Hindus and a couple of expatriates were pleading for some action against hordes of psychos.

Special law enforcement forces captured one perpetrator and exposed him to extreme interrogation. However, as their vigilance and haste didn't match their brain department capabilities, they unfortunately forgot to ask him questions and poor terrorist died without revealing any substantial information.

While still at large, the rest of not very brave, but sufficiently boneheaded warriors for louder and more stupid world decided to hire a lawyer.
Prominent Taliban lawyer Mr. Bombthemall explained his sweet, lovely, innocent group of morons is only expressing support to the Indonesian government, namely to the president Mr. Y. Bambang. When announcing bam! bang!! bam!!! bang!!! they are expressing their gratitude and loyalty to him.
Chief of police Mr. Deeppoket was torn between how to stop the illegal use of explosives on one hand and not to break the ovations to the beloved president on the other hand.
As an upstanding official he did the best for both involved parties – he collected donations from all and retired.

Lawyer representing the peace loving group, Mr. Flowerpower answered: “I love you too”, and continued with composing a fatwa.

Remaining Hindus, tourists and expats signed the fatwa on all of the noise-makers.
You want your million?
Catch a terrorist, tear his head off, piss down his throat and post a video on you tube.
Since the fatwa is out, one way tickets from Bali to Afghanistan are sold out.

P.S. If you got the feeling there is no love lost between firecrackers throwing imbeciles and me – trust your feeling.

P.P.S. If you have similar Taliban problems in December at your home, feel free to use our fatwa.

 

Soothing Sounds of Bali

You cut the cables and this thing is OK.

Idyllic island of Bali and esoteric people of Bali can make you feel in heaven also with their approach to music.
There is a subtle difference between majority of Balinese and a minority of mostly young Balinese. This minority has just a little different ideas of heaven, music, inner peace etc. Their type of heaven you would gladly accept:

a) if heaven is for you a concert of mentally handicapped blacksmiths
b) if you are medically approved as a 100% retard
c) if you can not hear an F-16 overshooting 10 meters above your head
d) if you are already seriously brain-damaged from rave parties

Sound of a piano, soft vocal, mingling with ocean waves or golden silence spiced with some whispers from the leaves dancing in an ocean breeze – all this is about same appealing to a globalized young Balinese as garlic is to Dracula. Reason is simple. All this can make you enjoy the pleasures of your life, be at one with people surrounding you, with yourself. You can start thinking, daydreaming, creating – and this is a mortal sin for idiots.

Younger generation of Balinese strives to become brain-free as much as it is humanly possible. And what is better to suppress your brain from working then to overload them with absolute noise? More boom boom boom units you put into your head, more effective. So sub-woofers are rather essential for their brain-damaging meditations.
In combination with a big enough doses of methyl alcohol (part of their local concoctions) results are amazing.
Matter of fact, lobotomy brings the same results, however, it's still too expensive.

A young guy in our village started to use a rather innovative approach. After a solid input of doomsday sounds and enough methyl alcohol, he starts collecting cow excrement, mix it with a raw egg – and after devouring this, he claims he is in heaven.
I just hope they will never hear explanation what word “stoned” means. As there are so many volcanic stones in Bali – on the other hand, seeing them when they start to hit themselves in foreheads with the stones …

Dear innocent victims of collateral damage (passers-by, tourists, neighbors), please keep on mind these poor lowlifes are just amplifying their desperate cry:

“Is there anybody, anybody at all, who would like me or care about me?!”
Sorry to inform you, the answer is: “Nobody.” And I counted several times.

 

A Diver.

A friend. A diver. A chili eater.

In times when bean counters, ambulance chasers and second-hand car sellers start to govern the scuba world, it's the time for a real scuba addict to emerge.
Do you know this guy from somewhere?

a) a carpenter you hired some time ago
b) your soul auditor
c) your neighbor
d) the guy who told you “Go diving and sin no more.”

Whatever. The fact is, he's an old school diver and as the rest of this bunch, clean as a whistle, straight as an arrow and of course from time to time he has to pay the price for this. As for instance after a meeting with a notorious gang of pushers selling scuba diving certification cards, T-shirts and diplomas – OK, he looks a bit haggard, slightly damaged, but his message to the pushers is clear – piss off.

For this guy, diving is diving. Period. Full stop.

He is bearing the weight of his scuba gear with dignity, whenever his primary tank is empty he opens the second tank valve, he will change regulator only for a regulator, BCD for a BCD …
If I got him correctly, his final statement at the meeting: “Bless you that understand me, and spit on you which despitefully use me”, earned him this beautiful crown.

How come you don't know this guy from Oprah's show? Well, somehow it's not in his nature to sit on a couch and explain to millions of blessedly mentally challenged intellectuals what body lotion he uses after being whipped with thorns.

What his Hollywood and the Village friends think of him? They hate his guts for what he is and for what he isn't.

What CEOs of major Fortune 500 companies think of him? Nothing. As they can not get their minds out of an endless loop “How to fuck each other ...”.

What Dalai Lama thinks of him? “Why he's always so late coming for tea?!”

What I think of him? “Buddy, what do you think, time for another …?”