Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!
Rolling down “memory lane” I came across’t another picture set that was EPIC in it’s entirety. Now… this was Christmas 2006… We had a BIG Corporate Party under the Prime, ITT… what it -ackchully- stood for is lost on me and my shitty TBI induced memories, but we always called it “International Thugs n’ Thieves”. One of the larger more corrupt outfits to have ever run a Middle Eastern Grift… I was with Stanley under as a subcontractor.
So, being a miiiiiiiiiiiiiiillion miles away from the Untied Statz, the company tried to lay on a pretty BIG parh-tay, despite the ‘no booze rules’ of Kuwait. Now, don’t get me wrong, Booze was ostensibly available, however it was of two varieties, one being home-made moonshine called Siddique, pronounce Sid-deek-key or more often “That undrinkable bullshit that’ll leave you blind” and then real ‘Murican Booze smuggled in by various factions… however, a single 5th of Jack? Yeah, try almost $200 USD.
#7 @ $200? Fuggedaboutit.
Waaaaaaay outta my league. Not that I didn’t have the cash, but man, even for me, that’s faaaar too much dinero for a buzz.
So, anywho, the company threw a big assed party… booze free of course. At the party, me and my bros went together, and the grub was good, and it was at a BIG mall in Fahaheel, which was a major high-end shopping District of Kuwait City. At the party, they even had a gen-you-wine camel and drover of said-Joe-Camel there, for us to get rides and pictures taken.
Harris and Byron? Well, they stood there and Joe camel seemed to be aight with it.
Then it was my turn.
Now, I wanted to get a -bit closer-… so shot #2 was needed:
It’s blurry, but that’s because the camel started getting ‘ornery’ and Bryon who was taking the picture yelled to me at the last second “Big Country, watch out!”Next thing I know, I got a camel chomping down on my right shoulder fucking vicelike and hard.Bryon of course kept taking pics sorta-kinda
Motherfucker done went and bit me…And me? Well, I lost it…The last pic is of Bryon going to pull me off the drover, cause I done went and did a Conan IRL.
Yeah,… no shit, it was sort of like this:
I right hooked and cold-cocked that big sumbitch.
Knocked ole Joe Camel on his one-humped ass.
I was positively covered in Camel drool and loogies mind you, and my right shoulder bruised up for weeks. The drover wasn’t none too happy I had knocked Joe Camel into next week, but realized I was fittin’ to ‘pack him a lunch’ too so to speak… I was fucking bullshit man
I fucking hate Camels…
Motherfucking ornery nasty assholes.
Yeah… Fuck ’em.
Only -other- Camel story I got was when I –first- hit ground in Kuwait. They piled us alllllll on a microbus. Not sure if’n y’all have ever seen them Jap minibuses, but man, they sure as shit-shootin’ ain’t made for us Big Ole Corn Fed Norte’Muricanos. Itty-Bitty Seats. They packed us in like sardines, and then ran us up and around the city… there was some sort of Festival going on… BIG holiday. We got stuck-like-Chuck in horrible traffic near, what I found out later was the Fahaheel Woman’s Magic Mall.
Because of the whole Islamic ‘wimmenz is subhuman’ and whatever, the Magic Mall is a cross between the Insane Clown Posse Mall, a daycare, and the “no men allowed”, leastways Kuwait/Ay-rab men. Us ‘Muricans never caught flak for going in. It had an amusement park, carnival rides, hell, even a roller coaster. We got stuck outside of it for quite a spell in the traffic that day.
There was a whole pen of camels hemmed up in that parking lot too… Seeing’s the whole ‘festival atmosphere and whatnow, I started debating on bringing the X and Kinder over for a few months… I mean shit. Free apartment, 4 bedrooms, total luxury, and a mall with Clowns, a roller coaster and camels? (Mind you this was pre-my-ass-getting-chomped) Sounds like good fambly fun!
So, as we’re sitting there, waiting in the sweltering heat, Haji the Camel Handler takes one of the Camels out of the pen… walks him over to the back of his Bongo Truck. Mazda has a little utility Pickup called a Bongo… google it… so Haji the Camel Handler ties the lead to the back of the truck. He then reaches into the bed and comes out with a ginormous sword/cleaver looking thing… one of the broads on the bus literally said “What’s going to happen to the camel?” when >WHOOOOSH<
Hackity Hackity, Whackity Whackity, Ole Joe literally got it in the neck.
Head pops off, and the blood positively jetted ALL over the side of our microbus…
Like OMFG… and I was thinking about bringing my kids here?
Oh Holy Hells No to the Fuck Nos.
One of the chicks on the bus started ralphing.. THAT put me off more than the blood let me tell ya
THAT took the final cake for me… locked in a microbus with puke and blood everywhere?
Good times, good times.
What was, to me, the hysterical part was the –other fucking camels still in the pen- I could almost hear the dialog: “Oh holy shit!!! Jimmy just got his fucking head cut the fuck off! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!!!” The looks on them other motherfuckin’ camel-faces were something to behold.
We were stuck there for about another 40 minutes. Long enough to see “Jimmy” as I had dubbed him in my head-cartoon reduced to ribs, steaks and chops. On our ride back, we went by the same area, and the camel population in the pen had been significantly reduced by Haji The Headchopping Camel Killer…
Seems for the Festivus, Joe Camel was most definitely on the menu.
Yeah…we sure as fuck ain’t them, and they sure as fuck ain’t us.
We should keep it that way
Hope You Enjoyed the Laugh or two…
And BTW: I’ve had plenty of revenge…
Camel meat (when I can afford it) is on the menu here
Camel Tacos and Burgers anyone?
More Later I Remain The Intrepid Reporter