Monday, 22 March 2010

Sun And Bass The Memoirs

After being intercepted at customs and having our feathers ruffled somewhat by Interpol things brightened up as we took off our sunglasses and met up with our more than helpful hosts Pedro and Seb the bastian mule, who by the way had the better vehicle not that the pink metty turbo was unreliable steed. We were worried for our friends safety in his vehicle as he looked surprisingly similar to the t1000 from terminator 2. After serenading our new friend with The Beegees number 1 hit staying alive we arrived at our sprawling estate only to find we were living not next to but actually in a bin! But not to worry as the t1000 seemed nicer today than he did in the film and he gave us a lift to the shop for vital supply's which consisted of comedy hats and cheese, we were startled at the fact the hats look more like bread than actual hats, but they were still eaten according to the regulations of the italian bread making society(IBMS). After refueling the troops decided to drink an abundance and assortment of liquor and beer with a hint of poppers for good measure, namely the dogs bollox which was ironic as it did smell similar to a pair of dogs bollocks.
Upon our first outing from the bin we came across a friendly young native, we didn't catch his name but it sounded a bit like our English saying..... Fuck off! we think he might have been trying to say his name was frank koff but he didn't stick around for us to make sure. He fled with haste in the opposing direction as we came up with our own name for him "fuckingcuntingwankerman".We then carried on with our venture just as clueless to the whereabouts of the blue arse bus stop. We terrorized more locals by blockading the road with fresh pink English flesh to try and get some sort of information out of anyone/thing. We didn't, so we strolled on on what seemed to be an endless journey to nowhere. Suddenly the t1000 decided to test his brakes by going from 80kmph to 0 in a matter of feet seemingly regardless for the safety of the bread van behind which was mere inches from impact had he not swerved to save his light load of crossonts and pan oh chocola. I don't think he realized how close to death he was due to the fact the t1000 was drinking a carton of milk at the time and if he had of spilled one drop everybody would have knew about it. If you knew him like I do you would know not to mess with any dairy product around him as he is a serious lactose machine. After the abrupt stop on the motorway Mr 1000 then told us to get the fuck on the other side of the road and fuck off much like the native, more due to the fact that his metty turbs couldn't really house 7 people not that he showed any effort to try. We took his advice though and crossed over to avoid certain death by oncoming traffic still none the wiser to where we were headed. Then Dr Capes feeling a small explosion of lunacy decided he would run ahead of the pack to somehow retrieve supply's and get his troops a lift into town. Meanwhile Cactus Jackoff back with the pack took it upon himself to try and get some juice out of a cactus resulting in 50 to 60 spikes being embedded deep within his cheeks, gums, teeth, hands and tongue which he was not impressed with in the slightest. Dr Capes on the other hand had dropped on to a winner as he had thought he had found the beach but realized he was ordering squid at the local fish counter. Waking from heat stricken hallucination, Dr Capes remembered he had mission to not only save humanity but his 6 friends he had left 3 days earlier! * as the world around him started to crumble an implode* he bumped in to what he thought was a native where upon he engaged in the local lingo, " non pala molt bein italiano "( I do not speak Italian very well ) the friendly face replied by saying "I am from Holland my friend" to which Dr Capes replied "do u smoke the ganj"? The burly clog hogger chuckled for 30 minutes with no reply which gave me the impression he had in fact smoke blue cheese before murdering his wife an dumping her corpse in a local dry river bed.* After discovering this fact the doctor thought that this would be the perfect time to ask for lift as he would have a spare seat in his passion wagon / murdervexhile, dutch for murder wagon.* He replied with an almost murderous and 'I have duck tape and a ball gag' stare! He said "No problemo, it would be a pleasure almost my fantasy". OK he replied. Thinking it would help the cause Captain Capeman offered to pay for the gents 12 inch bower knife, electrical wire tape, blow torch and 95 proof vodka, which he thought was strange as he didn't smell like a drinker.....! We left the shop as the troops rolled in looking gaunt and spiky, some in urgent need of medical assistance. Our chauffeur / friend / serial murderer, possible rapist, introduced himself as Josh but he neither looked nor was a guru..... Like my man Nanak! Hey-ho I neither cared nor worried when he asked the 3 girls to get into the boot as I was quite happy with the front seat. As we we approached town and with the remaining cactus spikes being spat out of the window and down the side of the gurus car the tulip lover produced the biggest baddest cigar out of a rifle case which was odd. We ask why he carried it in the large suede bag. He replied with a smile " because my rifle is in my cigar box!" Bull Shit mate!! We made our excuses and tried to leave the murdervexhale by pulling up the handbrake and learching for the door handle which had been removed for reasons unknown to us at the time* they seemed to have taken off fairly meticulously which made us think he had a mechanical background. We had noticed the sticker on the dash saying "the car in front is a Toyota" which made us believe this. It was was odd still though blood because we were tailing a Renault 5 turbo and we were in a land-rover discovery 2.2 turbo diesel. Maybe we were wrong? All I know is I wasn't going to be hanging around to find out! After kicking the front windscreen out we climbed onto the bonnet and made our exit.* Mr Montoran threw 10 euros into the ash trey on his way out and said" I hope that will cover the damage fella" We ran, forgetting about the 3 girls we had left in his boot! Luckily they had smelt the danger or so they thought, it turned out to be a bloody rag left by one of his previous victims.* They thought they should bring it with them as it had the name and address of the victim sewn into the remains of what looked like a pair of PE shorts.* Both partys had the same idea to get the fuck outa there so the back and front windows got popped out simultaneously. The girls left 20 euros though as the damage to the back far suppassed the dammage to the front. Mr capes doesn't like to be upstaged by girls so he ran back and said here's another 20 for your troubles youth an not to be cheeky but do you have an 8th of cheese i can buy. The guru didn't seem impressed with this and reached for his cigar box. Quick thinking mr capes had a flashback to when the guru had mention why he didn't keep his cigars in the cigar box and realised running would be better for his helth than hanging around. As he ran with bullets wizzing past his Lycra body suit he still had time to give him the finger like the true buillet dodging teeth pulling hero that he is.
* = Not completely true..

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