It’s been a long time, again, since I’ve updated my blog.
Mainly because my blogs only get about 50 hits per hours so it’s really not
worth the effort of blistering my fingertips tap tap tapping away on this poxy
keyboard. Any case, who wants to read about an adventure seeking, egotistical, slightly
backward wannabe Roux Jnr. That said, if you Google random blogs you will find
many more dull and less interesting balderdash blogs than the shite I’m about to write. Per example:
Kevin aged 18, Birmingham
“today I took my dog
for a walk and it was windy and it was wet and my dog barked at a squirrel and
the squirrel run away up a big tree and it was funny and then I went home and
fingered my girlfriend and watched myself on the Jeremy thing show and laughed
more and my dog barked at the TV when he saw me on it and it was well funny.
Then my dog bit me so I hit my girlfriend in the face coz I hate her and all my
mates shagged her when I went to the shop to buy a pizza and now she’s had a
brown baby and I’m not sure if I’m the dad but I don’t care coz really I do luv
her l luv her so much, I luv her nearly
as much as her sister who gave me a blowy on the toilet yesterday and her mum
who is well fit and has lots of different blokes every night at her house cos
she is so fit but she is not happy as she screams and moans a lot and the other day I heard her shout f*ck
me f*ck and I think she meant me and not the bloke from the council housing
association who was inspecting her bedroom for bed lice or somink. I’m gonna
bone her”….
KEVIN
(I’m now struggling
to write something more interesting than Kevin. Dammit).
Yeti Head! Not every day you see one of those is it? Well I
am one of the few to have had such an experience. I was on a Himalayan mountain,
Everest in fact, alone, in a blizzard at 7,255m above sea level in November
2013. Visibility was down to 10m, storm force winds and ice ripping into my
skin like a babies arse in a shot blaster, when the dark shadow appeared in
front of me. At first I thought it was a Polar bear but there was not an Iceberg
around for 1000 miles; then I thought it was a hairy bearded Nepalese woman but
it was far too tall and not quite so smelly. Confused and dazed by altitude and
not having eaten for 11 days I stupidly said “What are you”. I was not expecting the reply that came. It was the most ferocious roar that penetrated
through my snow filled ears sending shivers down my spine and dropping me
instantly to my knees….I shall never forgot those words………”I’m a f**ing Yeti”!!!!
I shit my pants, literally, shit my pants. Fearing for my life and expecting
any moment for the formidable and ferocious beast to tear me limb from limb I knew
I had to stall him. Buy some time. First thing that came into my head I asked “What’s
a nice bear type thing doing on a lovely mountain like this” and before he/she
could answer I whipped out my 47 multi tool penknife and cut its fucking head
right off!
THE MOUNTAIN
THE YETI (before I cut his f***ing head off)
After feasting on a few slivers of juicy warm brain flesh, I
kicked the Yetis head all the way back down to base camp, obviously after a
quick run to the summit and planting my Westham Flag on top of the world.
Exhausted from all the kicking, I sat down on a Himalayan cactus for a rest which
is where I met Tarquinii. Tarquinii was a middle aged bald bloke from Tibet who
claimed people often refer to him as the Dalai Lama. Isn’t that some kind of
horse / goat creature? What a weirdo! Anyway, we got talking and before you
knew it we were both laughing at our stories of old, getting smashed in
Thailand and ending up copping off with a lady boy and giving them the old
crocodile Dundee treatment. That’s when he looked down and asked me what that
thing was stuck to the end the end of my crampon. “Oh it’s just some old Yetis
head that I cut off a few hours ago”. His eyes popped out like ping pong balls on stalks;
jeez he looked just like Grasshopper, for those that remember. Apparently old
Lama and his ancestors have been on a quest to find the true mountain Yeti for
over four centuries. Like I give a shit. I swapped him the head for a kit-kat chunky
and off he went, holding what was really only a cracked up skull that looked a
bit like the top of a hairy coconut shell.
I thought nothing more of it until later in my journey back to
Lima I visited an historic and beautiful Sherpa temple and had to queue for 45
minutes and pay 500 Rupees to see an ancient and sacred Buddhist temple treasure.
As I entered the incense filled room to the sound of Harry monks blowing a monotonous
hum drum out of a conch shell, I saw the
sneaky little f**ker.
HARRY MONKS BLOWING ONE OUT
Dalai Lama aka Tarquinii
smoking a cigar and counting dollar for showing off his friggin Yeti coconut
head to Buddhist and tourists far and wide “Yeti slain by Sir Edmund Hillary”.
YETIS HEAD
Fair play Tarquinii you cheeky little scroat!!
That fateful day is where I stumbled across Roomie, my ginger bearded fellow mountaineer.
More adventures to follow…..
