The Lord Buddha, besides being partial to the meditative powers of that natural weed that grew on the Himalayas use to study his shit.
‘Pull the other leg.’
He said the true form of that roast duck you ate the night before with roasted vegetables will be revealed in the shit.
‘It will be stripped bare and the true form of nature will be revealed.’
Was he talking about compost?
Most likely Bernhard.We don’t know what he really talked about. I suppose he was stoned most of the time, so what he said might have been spruced up by his followers, sparing the Buddha any embarrassment a few millennium down the track.
You learn something every day, don’t you?
The Kiwi wasn’t sure if I was taking the piss out of him or being serious.
And did know, where ever you are, someone is taking a selfie. You will appear on Facebook even if you don’t want too.
‘So you’re saying you hope the wrong people don’t get access to facial recognition program and Facebook’s database.’
It’s one way to track you down. An easy way.
‘You are one paranoid fucker.’
Facebook made me that way. It facilitated that fear. You know they work with the CIA and there’s a MEGA search engine that can track our every movement.
‘The banks can pinpoint you every transaction and location and even a summary of your interests, right down to the last website you made a purchase.’
And Google and any other electronic communication can listen in on your private thoughts and even suggest a tailor-made advertisement. I’m getting lots of dental implants in India these days.
And satellites can even spy on us taking a shit in the dunny.
A friend of mine said that your mobile is a leash for the authorities. They know everything about us if they want to find out.
‘Is that why you change your phone number more frequently than your dirty shit stained underwear.’
He had me there.
Embrace the shithead in yourself. Get back to mother nature and take a crap in the garden.
A turd will you more about your health than a doctor with a stethoscope, that’s just a prop to justify their high fees.
Man you are on one, said Bernie. ‘Next, you are going to tell me you have an earache.’
And before you ask, yes I’ve flown with a full-blown eardrum, it was when we were defending the gold mine in the desert of Mongolia.
‘So don’t say you won’t take that flight because of an ear infection, take a concrete pill princess.’
We were still at the warung.
So how did it go with Miss Banyuwangi with five children?
‘We played put the tongue on the end of my ass.’
I really shouldn’t have asked.
It was time to get a dose of the real world.
I said let’s jump in the car and I’ll show you the hot springs, about a three-hour drive from here.
Bernie gave some cash to the Mad Hindu and we left him at the warung, where he could have his wicked ways with the whores for the next week.
‘Best fixer around,’ said Bernie, who didn’t think twice about handing over a truckload of red notes.
‘This place I have in mind is next door to the sacred hot springs.’
It was also a great place to unwind and relax in the warm thermal waters.
‘Bullshit,’ said the intrepid Kiwi, ‘it’s a great perving platform, come clean with me, I smell your shit from miles away.’
He should, I only laid a turd just behind him. The outdoor toilet policy of the warung suited me fine.
Bernie was sniffing, was he getting a whiff of it?
He wisely advised me before we hit the open road turn my phone off and destroy the sim, ‘unless of course, you like Big Brother following you.’
Clearly, he wasn’t taking me seriously. And clearly, I needed google maps to get around the island. Otherwise, I’d be lost.
There’s only one road that goes around the Island said Bernhard, who said Google was the biggest offenders of mining our private thoughts.
Big Brother, the more liberties we have, the more they know about us.
‘You’ve been watching that Ed Snowden movie haven’t you?’
‘And take off that masking tape on the camera of your laptop, don’t you think that’s a little extreme?’
I nodded again.
‘It would be better over your mouth, that way it would stem the flow of shit.’
But they are watching us.
‘And next, you are going to say the Samsung smart TVs are watching us fuck in the living room.’
Too late to reply.
Slap, on the back of the head.
‘Keep your eyes on the road, I want to arrive at the hot spring alive.’
Actually, even if your TV isn’t connected to the internet, it still records on a secret hard drive. Then once you are connected, it’s relayed back to North Korea where the leader gets his cheap thrills.
‘Hasn’t he heard of cam sights?’
Someone needed to tell him, but I wasn’t going to me, I eventually said as we pulled into the long driveway of a homestay next door to the sacred hot springs.
Nothing like a good conversation to kill a couple of hours driving hours, hay?