OK, so I know it is the season of Lent and Lent I believe is a time most Christian folk are sad. sad because the son of God (aka Jesus 'cool dude' Christ suffered a lot during this time - or so Mel Gibson would have us believe).
But I think they are sad because they can't drink, especially the good catholic souls of Goa. Not so say that most Goans are Christians, but a great deal are, usually the more fun loving ones. And may Jesus bless them because these guys are great fun. Where else in the world would you find a guy drunk at nine in the morning. OK, many places, St. Stephen's College during the debauch sessions of yours truly and Mister Novelist in the late nineties (pity that is just a memory now).
But this is a town full of drunkards, OK, bad stereotyping here, not everybody is an alcoholic, but where else in the country would you find chilled beer available at a PCO booth. And not just 'any' chilled beer, this is "King's" Goa's answer to - um, well, European beers. American beers are not even worth mentioning here because they taste like Gnats piss, that is if Gnats could piss. Especially Bud Light, which has to be the worst beer ever. No, make that ever ever. OK, so the ads are cool, but who cares.
Back to Goa, my memories of that town are clouded in a LSD and Ecstasy fuelled haze from the 'real' turn of the millenium in 2000-01. What a new years that was. Cheers to all those who helped me survive that. I'm pretty sure there are still residual effects of the drugs I did then, no maybe the effects are of the drugs I have done more recently. Not that I have done too many drugs recently. Well, maybe, only once or twice.
Hilltop, Disco Valley, Bamboo Forest, Tito's. Shit, I even remember how to get to those places. Yup, that was my big growing up on drugs party. I spent an entire (almost) 36 hour train ride back home on MDMA. Which made me hated by everybody else on the train. But I was too happy to give a gnats ass. Why am I obsessed with gnats today? Must be something I ate.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. There are reasons why I just lurve being a journalist. No I don't do drugs at work, and most journos are too freaking boring to do drugs. Imagine if every Page Three reporter did cocaine, like the rest of the people at the P3 party they went to cover. Now that would give Madhur Bhadarkar a nice new movie plot. I love the junkets, sometimes. No not the wine tasting 'fan trip' courtesy rich island nation airline, but you know the times you actually lern stuff. And get laid. A lot.
So, big Scandanavian technology company wants to take me to Goa to have a good time. Which is good. They might want me to present a paper. Which is not so good, because it involves work. Shit, am I that good? I have exceeded all expectations, must reduce them fast. People think I am some kind of smart dude already. Must make them think I'm dumb. Hmm, easier said than done.
I could always pfaff, but the times when I do that, people still think I am smart. This is getting dangerous. Must forget all cognitive skills as well as English. Maybe that will help.
Another post sometime soon.