July 2014 | By: Scrooble The Scrotable Scribbling, Dribbling Scribe
“I Like A Good Bonkasa"
Anyway, so this is going to be one of those Dickensian or perhaps Dickheaded episodic deals much like the little Dickens (he was only twenty four inches tall you know, they all were in those days otherwise how could they fit into Anne Hathaway’s house in Shakespeare-On-Fire?) much like his made-for-tabloid serialised 17th century prostitute saga “A Sale of Two Titties”. It was an absolutely perfect day when we pulled up at the wantilan at the Puri Dalem Bonkasa two weeks ago, balmy with just enough cloud cover overhead to keep us lightly chilled off; a puff of cool breeze played over our legs and ventured up our shorts.
A verdant paddy and palm view spread out before us as a promise of things to come and we were not in the least bit disappointed. We hadn’t had a decent Bonkasa for some time (well, at least, I hadn’t) and Jorok and pals really outstripped themselves, so to speak. It was so good as to be almost a sexual experience: undulating mounds and curves, deep and tangled valleys that were, well, wet, and a slow and arduous climb to the heights of… I’d probably best not persue this metaphor any further for fear of being labelled some kind of salacious perve - a hasher for example (eek!) You know how it is when you haven’t had a really good Bonkasa for a while. Seriously folks, the pristine temple to our left just before we hit the mini Banyan forest were both standout elements and picturesque enough to adorn any travelogue anywhere else but here, where they’re just a another unassuming feature of the everyday landscape.
The circle was notable for a few manic performances: Labia stomping the shit out of, and soiling heavily an achiever tee shirt that turned out to be his own. The return of the return of the return of Wooden Eye and Jangle Balls and the crowd serenading a newly named Danish Muffin with the Dung Beatles’ “All Your Muffin”. What a sport she was, having to put up with that caterwauling old pisspot, no offence, J.B.
