Tag Archives: Balangan

Back in Balangan

After three weeks back in Australia, I was sick of winter and ready to head back out into the big wide world, so I hitched a ride on a Qantas jet and zipped over to Bali to go paragliding and chase backpackers for a month. Actually, it wasn’t quite that easy – some Islamic terrorist knob jockeys have been doing their best to blow up Aussie planes, which meant an extended journey through security. I guess rocking up with a backpack full of radio equipment and other electrical goodies probably wasn’t a great move. Sadly Fortunately, I didn’t end up with some customs dude lipping his arm up my arse.

Oh, bloody hell, it's sunny!

The other hassle during my flight over to Asia had less to do with bearded Islamic terrorist bum boys and more to do with my own goofiness, because I wasn’t allowed to check in without having a return ticket booked. With only $126 to my name, a flight back to Sydney was out of the question, so it looks like I’ll be spending a week in Darwin on the way back. Cold beer, hot Euro travellers, and heaps of crocodiles to punch. Oh shit, however will I deal with that?

The place I'm staying at looks like it was built by drunk children

Much like last year I’m kicking off my Bali sojourn with a few days in the hidden paradise of Balangan. If you want to know more about it, just read my award-winning post from this time last year. The only real difference is that I’m 20kg lighter this year, so I’ve been spending every morning jogging around in the heat and trying not to shit myself the whole way. Thanks to the rabid dogs that chase me everywhere, I’ve actually been cracking out som good times, and the seven litres of sweat that pours out of me each morning clears plenty of space for Bintangs.

Olympics, here I come

It was on one such not-so-fun run that this story begins. I was doing my best to sidestep a cow when a motorbike came to a spluttering stop a few metres from me and a stunning sort climbed off. She pulled off her helmet, sending blonde hair cascading halfway down her back. I did my best to hide my erection.

“You look like you have plenty of stamina,” the babe said in a thick eastern European accent. I just nodded dumbly and hoped she wouldn’t realise I was about six steps away from collapsing into a bush and spewing on myself. “You should jump on the back of my bike.”

We've all woken up next to someone who looks like that, right?

I was faced with two options. Either I could continue on my run, improve my health and fitness, and live a longer life, or I could climb on the back of a conked-out bike ridden by someone barely old enough to have the training wheels off and drastically reduce my life expectancy. I’m not a fucking idiot, so I went with the option that offered the best chance of getting laid. By that I mean I got on the bike – I guess I could’ve porked one of the cows wandering around, but even in Indonesia such behaviour is largely frowned upon.

Alright, they are kinda cute

Milana (for that was this lovely lass’s name) took me to a gorgeous bar on the beach, where we ordered icy cold Bintangs and did our best to piece together a conversation, despite her being from Estonia and possessing a looser grasp on the English language than your average Bauer editor. When she told me that she’d been in Balangan a year ago and had a disappointing sexual experience with another Aussie paraglider, who looked like me but was much fatter and had longer hair, I just nodded and pretended not to be hurt.

The long-haired, overweight disappointmnt may have looked something like this

Long story short, after 15 Bintangs each we found ourselves in a run-down shack on the beach, the waves crashing beneath our heaving bodies. After a few minutes of fumbling around like a drunk seal I felt very contented and was ready to roll over and have a sleep, but Milana was somewhat less pleased with the proceedings.

“I take back what I say about you have stamina,” the babe said, struggling into her dress. “Maybe you is more like 100 metre runner.”

“Luv,” I replied with a smile as I swaggered out the door, “that’s the first time anyone’s likened me to Usain Bolt. Cheers.”

I like swingers' parties

Bali is still a beautiful place, but it’s time for me to stop looking at it from ground level, and instead check it out from a couple of hundred metres in the air. I’ve got a brand new wing and an almost aggressive desire to spend as much time paragliding as possible. Let’s just hope I can keep it up for a bit longer than I did with poor bloody Milana!

Advertisements

Bingin there, done that

DSC04978

I’ve been itching for somewhere new to explore in Bali, and today i scratched that itch by visiting one of the beautest beaches around. By sheer coincidence, a lady friend of mine happens to be in Bali right now and staying only a few kilometres away from me in Bingin, so today I decided to rock on over and see her. And see if I could give her one, because she’s pretty hot and knows how to make sex better than my good buddy Geoff Jansz knows how to make pineapple quiche – and that motherfucker knows how to make pineapple quiche.

DSC04984

Bingin is pretty much the bigger, more developed brother of Balangan – which is pretty much the same role I play in regards to my brother. I certainly can’t match him when it comes to eating Dagwood Dogs, however. The track down the cliffs to Bingin is steep and winding and offers awesome views out over the ocean, with all sorts of shacks and restaurants clustered around it. I’d say it’s not recommended for wheelchair people, but a little Balinese bloke would probably carry you down for a few dollars, so go for it.

DSC04977

The beach itself is really nice and quite unique. Cliffs rise up from the water, completely covered in huts and hotels and places to drink Bintang. It’s heavily developed, but in a nice style that makes it feel like the way it is right now is the way it was always meant to be. Of course, the wooden shacks will probably be knocked down and replaced with a fucking McDonald’s in a few years, but at the moment it’s pretty perfect.

DSC04989

Unfortunately, my date didn’t progress as hoped. I saw a funny-looking dog and chased it with a stick for half an hour or so, and when I got back my lady friend was kissing a Brazilian dude with a full sleeve of bad tatts. When I mistakenly asked whether a threesome was on the cards, he chased me with a stick for half an hour or so, which I believe is the definition of irony.

DSC04986

The Brazilian bozo didn’t order me off the beach with a threat of beheading me and defecating down my neck (he was too busy kissing my lady friend, which he probably wouldn’t have done had he known where that mouth has been; spoiler alert, MY PENIS!), so I spent the afternoon splashing around in the water and checking out the sexy bikini-clad European women ambling about. It was a bit like one of those black man rapper videos where every chick is really hot and there’s not a fatty in sight, although when I started spittin’ sick rhymes about bitchez and money and stuff like that, I wasn’t met with nearly the same amount of applause as Jay-Z or Vanilla Ice would be.

DSC04995

With my lady friend edging ever closer to having a Brazilian baby and few other people on the beach looking like they wanted anything to do with me, I made my way back up the steep track (I’m lying – I paid a Balinese dude to carry me) and raced back to Balangan. When I got there, I was treated to a sunset that was truly a gift from the gods. Sometimes everything goes wrong, and sometimes life isn’t easy, but a sunset can put everything into perspective and let you know that it’s going to be cool in the end.

DSC05014

As I’ve gotten older I’ve gained a greater appreciation for sunsets. The uniqueness of each one, how fleeting they are. Every sunset is one less that I get to enjoy, so for now, I’m going to make the most of every fucking one of them. Now where’s that funny-looking dog gone?

DSC05021

Revenge of the Ladyboys

Last time I was in Bali I was overwhelmed by the number of ladyboys – seriously, there were wangs busting out of bikini bottoms all over the place. I matched with a whole bunch of them on Tinder while I was looking for proper women to disappoint, and readers of Drunk and Jobless were left gobsmacked by my encounters.

Despite not having ovaries or wombs they can still compete in the Olympics as women seem to have bred, because there are even more shemales here this year! And while I haven’t had the pleasure of making six with any f these fine gentlemen, my good friend Igor the Russian Sex Tourist has been with them all, and was more than happy to share his experiences. Righto, let’s check out the finest chicks-with-dicks the Island of the Gods has to offer!

Screenshot_2016-08-30-19-08-40
Tragically, Nicky suffers from shemale-pattern baldness

IGOR SAYS: First we share haircut, then we share gonorrhea. Call me, baby!

Screenshot_2016-08-30-19-07-16
Mela is the most popular player on his soccer team, because any hole is a goal. He was even named MVP – Most Valuable Penis

IGOR SAYS: Mela’s wear spiky soccer boot to bed, and hotel charge me for damage, so I slash man at front desk with bottle. Maybe he live, maybe he die, I no care.

Screenshot_2016-08-29-21-52-38
Despite being the Hottest ever” LADYBOY”, Siti only had enough money for one breast implant. He’s waiting patiently for the right German pervert to pay for the other one

IGOR SAYS: When Siti ask for money for breast enlargement, I put my penis close to breast and say, “See! Breast already look larger!” I could be comedian like American faggot Mr Jerry Seinfeld.

Screenshot_2016-08-31-20-22-29
“Oh, bloody hell, my sheets are stuck to my face with my own jizz again!”

IGOR SAYS: Joke is on Cleopatra, that is my jizz!

Screenshot_2016-08-25-17-23-42
You could just about convince yourself you were porking a real woman if you were with Sasha. And it was dark. And you were drunk. And she didn’t spoof on you

IGOR SAYS: Woman from back, man from front. Sasha’s penis is like the evil snake from the popular Hollywood movie Anaconda. I hate that film, it is for fags.

Screenshot_2016-08-29-21-57-22
The best thing about Marysa is not her massive, fake titties, it’s the fact that after rooting him you can both sit down to watch the footy and talk about cars

IGOR SAYS: When I take off Marsya’s top, I disappoint that she not have love hearts for nipples. I still fuck him, but when he ask for money I call my friend Viktor and put a hit out on Marsya. He is dead now

Screenshot_2016-08-30-16-08-49
“Hello, Mum? I got the role as Garth in the Wayne’s World remake. Schwiiiiiing!”

IGOR SAYS: I get bad beard rash from kissing Jezica in movie theatre. Rash is on my mouth, penis and anus. I make Jezica pay for popcorn as I hate him

Screenshot_2016-08-29-21-51-13
The bloke on the left is in for huge surprise when he gets home. The bloke on the right knows exactly what he’s in for

IGOR SAYS: Who are these gaybos with my woman? I hope Geby give they AIDS, like he give me

Screenshot_2016-08-29-22-00-08
Putting a wig on Mike and calling him a woman is like putting a hat on a duck and calling it a rollercoaster

IGOR SAYS: Michel fucking trick me, I think is girl! Of course, I also once think tractor is girl and marry it, so my judgement is not so good

 

Screenshot_2016-08-30-21-44-29
Rara is back, and it’s STILL not gay if you root him/her

Bintangs in Balangan

DSC04935

The next leg of the Drunk and Jobless World Tour™ has begun! It’s a journey that will take me from the pristine beaches of southern Bali to the skies of Candidasa, across the mountains of South Korea and deep into the beating heart of Tokyo. It’s going to be a full-on seven weeks, so I’ve decided to start off in the most relaxing of places – Balangan, which is around 45 minutes drive from Kuta, but a world away from that concrete nightmare.

DSC04916

Balangan’s a really nice beach, with clean, white sand nestled up against volcanic cliffs and palm trees swaying all over the place. Ramshackle restaurants look out over the deep blue sea and surfers either glide through the water, or just sit on their boards because they don’t actually know how to ride but want to say they’ve surfed in Bali.

DSC04917

It’s not a great beach for swimming due to the reef extending to the sand, so I just bludged around drinking Bintang and perving on the good-looking sheilas who were wandering around. I saw one I really liked the look of – a topless blonde with a bad tattoo that suggested a low sense of self worth – and rolled over to say G’day.

DSC04929

“We might have to shut the beach down,” I said with a cheeky wink towards her perky boobies. “Because there are a couple of white pointers around.”
I was making my third honking sound when a shadow fell on me, and I turned around to see a very large, very angry man who was covered in tattoos that even Stevie Wonder would agree look shit. He politely suggested that it would not be in my best interests to remain on the beach (actually, it wasn’t all that polite – he screamed something about removing my head and defecating down the remains of my throat, which sounds like an odd thing to do), so I decided to run away in tears and go for a walk.

DSC04894

During my strut around town, I saw all the usual sights of Southeast Asia – overloaded motorbikes, blokes burning shit on the side of the street, and children urinating in public. I didn’t take any photos of the urinating children because I don’t want to end up on some sort of register, so I’ve put in a picture of an interested cow instead. I also found something that looks like a prison, with barbed wire and everything, and was chased away by guard dogs while the locals laughed at me.

DSC04907

I sought refuge at the top of a poorly-built wooden tower that seems to serve no other purpose than to give schoolkids a place to smoke bongs and trade porno mags they found in their fathers’ closets (sorry, Dad – I swear I’ll give you back that copy of Sixty Plus one day). I spent a minute or two gazing passionately at a flock of cows milling about far below, then hurried back down to safety because the whole thing felt like it would blow over with the faintest hint of wind.

DSC04902

It doesn’t take long to get sick of walking in Bali because it’s as humid as a ladyboy’s crotch, so I hailed a cab and headed back to my luxurious accommodation (the driver offered me a happy-ending massage and I said no, but I was disgusted with myself when I realised he probably meant that a pretty lady would do it, not him). With the beach off limits and not much else to do, I’ve just been sitting around with a beer in my hand and a grin pasted on my stupid face. You know, sometimes this strange dance we call life isn’t too bad at all.

DSC04865