His hand was bitten off by a pig!

And my life of bludging on the beaches of Goa goes on. And on. And on, like a train that’s really long. And sandy. Fucking hell, I’ve had too much sun. Or maybe it’s the five Kingies I’ve downed this arvo. Hanging out on Patnem can mess with a bloke’s brain.

Today I went along to the nearby village of Chaudi to get some money and see what it was like. Unfortunately, it was like India. It’s only a small place with a few people, but it was still chaotic and noisy. Idiots were yelling at me, cows were getting hit by cars, and I just wanted out of there before someone tried to rob me or rape me.

I’ve obviously seen only a small portion of India but, from what I’ve experienced most of it is a bit shit. It gets all these wraps for being some spiritual haven, but I’ve seen more spirits in an empty bottle of Bacardi. It’s worth coming here just to see how bizarre the whole place is, but outside of areas like Goa, which are basically tourist resorts, it’s just dirty and noisy, with largely unfriendly people seeking to seperate tourists from their wallets… or their kidneys.

While I was in Chaudi, I encountered a gentleman who was in possession of just the one hand. My first instinct was to console the fella on not being able to experience one of life’s great pleasures, that being able to drink a beer and masturbate at the same time. I thought that might be a bit crass, though, so I instead asked him how he lost his spanner. Apparently, it was bitten off by a pig.

HIS HAND WAS BITTEN OFF BY A PIG.

I thought I must’ve heard him wrong, but he started making pig noises and pushed his nose up so he looked like one, and then gnawed at his stump. I asked him what happened to the pig, and he told me his family ate it and that it was delicious. Fair enough, I suppose.

I later saw Stumpy amusing some children by putting his nub in his mouth, as if he was sucking it off, and they loved it. Lucky bastard’s probably pulled a million chicks with that move.

Patnem Beach, like a lot of places I go to, is full of couples. There’s even a couple of fat Russian gaybos in dick slickers sitting next to me. Igor and Ivan, great blokes. I’m sure the more built-up beaches have more singles, but I don’t want to be surrounded by buildings and hawkers, so once again I’m sort of out of place. Hopefully the next time I come somewhere like this, I’ll have a beautiful woman with me, but that would require me to stop fucking up all the time, so the chances are slim.

Speaking of which, I got locked in my toilet this arvo. I was in something of a rush to enter, as is usually the way in India, and somehow the door became wedged shut behind me. I was in there in the nuddy, so didn’t want to yell for the owner (who was outside dancing to ‘Don’t believe me? Just watch!’) so I spent half an hour in there, working out what to do.

In the end I just kicked the door down like a bad arse. A naked bad arse with an upset stomach, but still a bad arse. It was a bad situation, but still, it’s not exactly getting your hand bitten off by a fucking pig…