Jak(arta)ing off

This morning I met an American dude named Dick and a German chick named Cindy at breakfast and we decided to brave the streets of Jakarta together. It was a good thing, too, because before the day was through we would be running from a knife-wielding cab driver while being pelted with rocks by angry passers-by.

There’s not a lot to see here, so we decided to head to the National Monument, which is basically a huge spire that you can climb up. Ah, that’s it. So off we went, almost getting smacked by bikes and cars, coughing through the smog, until this massive erection appeared before us. And once Sonjay the Indian Pervert from our backpackers got out of the way, the Monument stood in front of us.

It’s like every other national monument, only a bit less exciting

I thought it would be big and exciting, like the Batmobile, but it was small and sad, like my penis. Still, we climbed it, we underwhelmed by the view out through the smog, and went back down – where we were mobbed by small children, who must’ve thought I was Brad Pitt (happens all the time).

My ban on going near children doesn’t extend to Indonesia

I also fucked a penguin.

I know Pingu won’t call me in the morning

Oh, and this dead-eyed piece of shit was there, too:

I’ll swallow your soul!

When we decided to head home, we were all tired and took a cab. The wrong cab, as it turns out. The driver started by taking a right when he was meant to take a left, then a left when he should’ve gone right. I had my GPS out and knew exactly what he was doing, and after half an hour, when we were right out of the way, we had to take action. I told him to pull over, and as soon as the idiot stopped, we did a runner. And he wasn’t happy about it.

I saw him pull a knife as I slammed the door, and the he started yelling as we ran away. That brought the attention of the locals, who started throwing rocks. I looked back to see the driver fall out of his car, and when he did his pants got caught on the door and he fell onto the ground wearing only his undies. The Indos stopped throwing rocks and started laughing, giving us time to escape.

Now I’m gettin’ el-drunko loco.


And I’ve never wanted to do this, but I don’t have a job – so if you enjoyed this post, please share it on Facebook, or follow it, or whatever. I’d really appreciate it, and it might be the only thing stopping me from eating out of a bin.

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