Is the year 1935? Did I just get time warped back to the Third Reich? This must be some sort of sick twisted dream … Today when leaving my house I noticed dozens of swastikas lining the stairs of my building. Immediately the Ann Frank in me began looking for an out and I formulated a plan to hide in the attic till shit blew over. I was later reassured that the swastikas hold a religious significance to Hinduism and are common during this seasons headlining holiday.
Today is Diwali, it’s the most visibly celebrated holiday in India, representing the victory of good over evil via an insane amounts of fireworks.
Think of it as a crossbreed between Christmas and the 4th of July. Children are showered with presents and six year old slum children recklessly light off pitakas (fireworks). Kinda like the way overpriced Halloween stores open up every October in the states, here a million different underpriced firework stores pop up around every corner.
Back in the states it would cost you 50 bucks to buy anything that flies up 200 feet, but here I purchased 10 Kaliswari Bullets for 50 rupees (roughly a buck); for under 300 rupees you can get rockets that skyrocket hundreds of feet in the air … dirt cheap.
Tonight as the sun fades, every kid that’s far too young to be lighting off sparklers will be blowing up rockets. Chaotic awesomeness, I plan on blowing up a couple packs of stray dogs, one of Raju mamas servants (he has plenty to spare) and maybe Jeet Sodhi’s roadside banana stand.
Jeet and is nana stand
Arvil, Rithlal and I just went topside to test out a couple rockets. I thought it would be a great idea to strap some Kaliswari bullets to the rockets, increasing our chances of permanent mutilation. Luckily we did not injury ourselves but seeing as the bullets did not blow up until they hit the ground a few hundred yards away, we cannot be positive that there were no casualties.
Tonight Kaku is coming over with another friend who is bringing more explosives to add to our arsenal. We plan on increasing our assets and minimizing our liabilities by having Rithlal do the igniting.
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Oh man … it has started, bad news folks. Arvil just ran into the bathroom for round 2, I am almost comatose after round 1.
Have you guys ever seen that movie Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs 3D? Well what just came out of my ass was kinda like CloudyWith a Chance of Uncooked Foamy Meatballs 4D (shaking and spraying and all).
We just came from Raju Mamas house, he threw an an all night long poker and food party that lasted five hours. Throuhgout our partying we swindled rich people out of hundreds of rupees with our genius 3 card poker playing and stuffed our faces with the dozens of appetizers. Raju had around 5 servants peddling food in and out of the kitchen all night.
Following dinner, I had the sudden urge to shit myself and this almost happened. I begged Arvil to follow me upstairs so that I would have some cover. The last thing I needed was someone to walk into the room and hear the sound of death coming from my ass. After a mean session of sweating, dropping 5 lbs of what looked like Cambells minestrone soup and praying to g-d for this to stop I decided to pack up shop and see if I could hold out. Only one problem, the toilet would not flush. Later on after confessing to Anu Mama that her toilet wouldn’t flush she informed me that it has been broken for a few days. Great, what a nice way to repay someone for inviting me to their house for dinner. I felt like an asshole.
I am now laying next to Arvil consoling him after his horror story of a toilet visit. I hope that I can beat this sickness through falling asleep before I soil the bed sheets.
Some back and forth convo btwn Arvil and I describing life.
“Straight liquid out my butthole son, projectile”
“I felt like it was completly futile to wipe, because I was ganna be back so soon and I was so raw down there”
“You know the feeling like when you can’t tell which hole the waters coming out”
“Machine gun status man”
“Wiping however did salvage whatever human dignity I had left”
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Our first month in India has served as an acclimation period, a way for us to become familiar with Delhi and to learn how to safely navigate this city. One way we chose to kill our downtime was to join a gym, equipped with complimentary trainers. I still don’t know my trainers name but my biceps are peaking at 19 inches and my back doubles as a helicopter landing pad … my guy knows his shit. I had a routine check up yesterday and the doctor suggested I have surgery to remove the two metal horseshoes lodged in my triceps.
Anyways Arvil decided to work out his tits today, seeing as we do not decide what exercises we perform Arvil asked his trainer. Indian people are naturally touchy feely, (when I sat in on an English class for Munzil within minutes a 17 year old Indian kid, Raju, caressed my legs and then used them as an arm rest). Guy on guy hugs, hand holding and slapfests are huge in India. So as a way for our trainer to gauge what exercises Arvil should perform he gently cupped Arvils tits. He smiled, felt around for a couple seconds and I guess through this hybrid breast exam/2nd base session our trainer gathered all the data from Arvils tits and knew exactly what gym session was necessary.
Needless to say, Arvils chest is no long small and humble. The kid is sporting a pair of 98% lean Shpuppies. The kids got Rockies.
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