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After bidding farewell to the Ross Ogre, we claimed our
bags and headed over to the rental agencies to see about getting
a car for the week. By the time we took care of bidness and headed
outside to locate our car it was 7:15am.
Here's our car for the week! A Peugeot 307 hatchback. Check
out Fatty enjoying the warm Cretan breeze on his face (which was such
a nice change after having
been in London freezing our asses off not 10 hours ago).
Being that all the road signs were in Greek, we elected Chris
to drive. We packed up the car, busted out the map, and started the 80
kilometer drive from Heraklion to Rethymnon.
I was so stupid-tired at this point my head was buzzing and I could barely
keep my eyes open.
We were in bad shape all around.
We stopped at a gas station to get some water and snacks (and so
Fatty could do a quick flex-down in front of the car)...
...and were totally blown away by the landscape.
The road we were traveling ran through the mountainous, northern
coastline of the island. Out the left window all we could see were
mountains with rows of olive trees haphazardly planted. Out the right
window were more scraggly mountains that dropped off right into the
sea.
So. Tired. Must. Sleep. Soon.
Our resort, The
Leoniki Residence, was about 5 km outside of downtown
Rethymnon in a little village called Platanias. The place
was
amazing.
Way nicer
than any of us
expected. Here's cranky Grant crashing out on the couch while Chris
sweet-talked the check-in lady in Greek. We got our into our condo,
grunted an approval regarding our accommodations, dropped our shit
on the floor and immediately went to sleep.
Fast forward nine hours! (That's right, all our traveling had finally
caught up with us and we were zonked). It's now 6pm
and we've all had a nice sleep, gotten showered and dressed. Here's
the
view
of
from
our
hotel
lobby
as we prepared to check out the beach (across the street and behind
that row of buildings) and then find something tasty to eat.
Chris on the beach!
Sunset on the strip. We ended up grabbing gyro sandwiches at some
tiny, outdoor snack shop right down the street from our place. Our
cute
waitress,
Ludmilla,
was Kazakhstani and
when she found out we were from New York City, started telling us
about how she lived in the New York City area for 18 months as an
au pair but after getting transferred to like 5 or 6 different households,
her visa application was denied and she had to go back to Kazakhstan.
We asked her to elaborate and she launched into all these totally
crazy stories about husbands falling in love with her, kids lying
about her beating them, etc. Seriously, if you can think of any bad
thing that a nanny can do, she was pretty much accused of doing it.
At first we were sympathetic, but by after the 4th or 5th story (each
that was delivered as she made visits to our table checking up on
us) we decided that
there was no way so much bad luck could befall one
person in such a short period of time, quickly paid our check and
got the hell away from (the girl we'd since nicknamed) "The Babyshaker"
as
quickly as we could.
Right
after eating, we decided to do grab some groceries for the condo.
(If you take our collective will-power and combined it, it would
be equivalent to the will power of a cranky six year-old with
ADD. Therefore, grocery shopping
is an
event we recognize can only be undertaken upon
full stomachs!). Right when we walked into the store, we quickly
got distracted by absolutely amazing rack of "SOUVENIR FROM
GREECE" buttons. Here's just a few of our faves: Grant holds up "Suck
My Bell End"
(for all
y'all not familiar
with this
charming British colloquialism, a "bell end" is the head, or "glans"
of the penis).
Chris (being Greek) demonstrates the proper way to wear this "Can
I Lick Your Clit?" souvenir from Greece.
And then, always a big hit with the ladies, there's the incredible
"Show Us Yer PISS FLAPS" SOUVENIR FROM GREECE button. Seriously,
if you're having a difficult time meeting people at parties, you
need to get yourself one of these buttons. It's a no-fail conversation
starter!
We actually purchased all three of these
buttons in hopes that the person who woke up one morning and thought
to themselves, "Hey! Wouldn't THAT make a
GREAT
souvenir button?" has since become a rich man.
After putting we put the groceries away, I laid down to take a
quick nap before we headed out for the night and woke up just in
time
to
thwart Grant's plans to seriously brain me. He was leaning in to
get better
sack-to-face proximity, saw that I was waking up and fired off this
creepy pic in a panic as he realized I was just about to clobber
him in the nuts. (And by the
way, what's up with your balls dude? You may have almost
brained me but at least my new nickname isn't "Wally Weirdnuts").
Around midnight, we finally got motivated enough to all hop into
the car and drive into downtown Rethymnon. We sat at an outdoor
cafe right on the water, had some coffee and chocolate cake, then
around 1am we started roaming the streets looking for some interesting
bars or clubs to hit.
One of the first things we noticed: apparently Rethymnon has specifically
designated "pedophilia" areas. Progressive!
Buddha Cafe, the first place we popped into, was booming. But as
we'd been told, we'd arrived in Crete about a week past the end
of the "tourist season" and excluding a few people that
we managed to pick out as fellow travelers, 98% of the people there
were Cretan (the photo above represents the one, small clique of
foreigners we saw out that night).
So concerning the locals, the
first thing you should know is that Cretan women are among the
prettiest
I've ever seen in the
world.
Seriously,
we were
blown away. Here's the breakdown: 80% of them are drop dead
gorgeous. 10% of them are just regular gorgeous. And the remaining
10% are maybe
a little
funny in the face, but they've still got ridiculous bums. Which
brings me to point number two: 100% of Cretan girls have badonkadonk,
J-Lo, pornstar asses. When viewed from the side, all of their bums
look like the letter C. We nearly lost our tiny minds. We
were like
how could we not have heard about the asses here? Which brings
me to the last point
about Cretan girls: 100% of them wanted to have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING
TO DO WITH THE FOUR OF US.
Chris talked to some of the local boys in Greek and then he explained
to us that because Rethymnon is a tourism town, it's apparently
taboo for the local girls to be interested in visiting boys because
all the
local boys will think she is a slut and won't want anything to
do with her. *sniffle*
Ikeepadiary
Productions proudly presents a new movie soon to be sweeping theaters
everywhere: I DANCE ALONE! Starring:
Grant "Wally Weirdnuts" Stoddard!
Brian "I want to dance with somebody" Battjer!
Chris "The Greek" Apostalou
and of course, David "The Fatty" Fateman!
Here we are, four dudes surrounded by nothing but totally hot women
from a Greek island who want to have NOTHING TO DO WITH US. Liberia's
got nothing on us, THIS is hell on earth.
With no girls in sight, here's Grant blatantly busted leering
at me. So gay!
With our hopes of banging tons of hot, slutty Greek girls utterly
shattered, we moved on to another club (this one called Arabia)
hoping to
find some hot, slutty girls on vacation from elsewhere. Instead
we were met with
more
hot Greek-girl
indifference.
But hey, at least the new place had lasers.
Woooo! Lasers!
After we were done with the laser show, he headed back to the
streets to look for something fun to do. Having totally given
up on any of us scoring some "Haha" for the night, we decided
to do what we do best: Take. Stupid. Pictures. Yeah! Here's Grant
doing his first DLR-Kick (That's David Lee Roth) on (off?) Cretan
soil.
Chris
opted for the old "Sure is windy here in Crete!" trick
by hanging horizontally from the "Child Molester Zone" sign pole
we'd seen earlier.
Bonus close-up! Still going (albeit slighly more red-faced)!
Chris can hold himself like that for like 10 minutes. It's insane.
After a quick lesson from Chris, Grant wowed us all with his
ability to do the "It's Windy!" trick!
Lacking both the lower-body flexibility to execute a proper DLR kick and the
upper-body strength (believe it or not!) to hold myself horizontal from the signpost
long
enough for someone to take a picture of it, I had to resort to the really lame "Look
at me I'm hanging from a window" pose. Booooo-ring!
Not wanting to make me feel bad, Chris was quick to throw down with
a quick "See, not only pussies have to hang from window?" show of solidarity.
What a fuggin guy, eh?
After our quick half-time show, we decided to try our luck in one
more bar. Upon returning from the bathroom upstairs,
Fatty actually managed to capture with his camera the Force Field
that was physically preventing all girls from seeing us
(nevermind actually letting them get close enough to dance with us). Once
he showed us this pic, we knew we'd better just call it a night.
On the way back to the car a little after 3am, we found another sidewalk
snack shop and decided to get something to eat. We all ended up ordering
the Cretan equivalent of (my favorite bo-bo NYC food) the infamous
Rosario's
"Frankie
and Cheese." (special shout out to the Crowley brothers,
Dens & Jonathan,
who have both frequently use their web pages to expound
upon the
most excellent deliciousness of this culinary wonder of the Lower
East Side)
Greek for "Tasty Pigs???"
All the girls walking by us on the street were wearing ridiculously
tight pants (to showcase their bums) A great side effect was that
half
of them
all had these totally obscene cameltoes in the front. At one point,
a girl walked by our table with such a big, visible mooseknuckle
an atypically crude Fatty exclaimed "Oh my god! Look! It's so
big it looks like she's got a pair of nuts in her pants!" He
then performend an on-camera demonstration
of how he'd like to "nuzzle all of their Greek bunches." ("fatty_nuzzle.avi"
0:03 / 363k)
On the car ride back to our resort, Grant suddenly started yelling
"PULL OVER! PULL OVER!" I freaked out, thinking I had accidentally
clipped
a Cretan nun or something, screeched to a halt only to have Grant
point excitedly out his window and say "Look dude, it's my store.
It's called "Grant!" See? We totally gotta get
a picture." (The best part of this picture, if you look
carefully, you'll notice Grant is using both hands to point to
himself. Hahah).
Ok.
So check it: We're a few blocks from our resort
and we suddenly notice a sign that wasn't lit-up earlier in the
night. "Anyone object to seeing an, ummmm, Live Show?" I asked
the car. No one seemed to mind, so I pulled into the parking
lot. After seeing what the regular local girls' asses
looked like, we couldn't wait to see the asses on the local stripper girls!
We
rushed inside like giddy morons only to be confounded by an
empty stage (complete with empty stripper-pole in the middle)
next to a bar where a few older Greek man sat nursing drinks. We
decided to sit down at the group of couches next to the stage and
have a drink hoping things would pick up. No sooner had our bums
touched the faux-leather of the overstuffed stripper-couches, did
four girls simultaneously appear on our laps out of NOWHERE! Seriously.
If you told me that they dropped from ropes out of secret trap doors
inthe ceiling, I'd believe you. It was insane.
After giving us a moment to compose ourselves, the girls introduced
themselves. Upon hearing their names, it became apparent that these
weren't local girls. In fact, they all were from the former Soviet
Union (at which point we started frantically looking around to make
sure we weren't about to get Shanghaied by their ringleader, The
Babyshaker!).
The girls suggested (more with gestural pantomiming than actual
words) that we buy ourselves, and them, a round of drinks. We obliged
and then
watched
the girls
toss
them
down like
sailors and ask (mime) for another. While Chris and I exchanged awkward
glances, Fatty and Grants' "strippers" somehow managed to pry them
away from the group and persuaded them to fork over more Euros for
private
dances at another cluster of couches a few yards away. Chris and
I held our girls at bay and tried
to make
polite
conversation
(while
at the same time trying to keep an eye on Grant and Fatty to make
sure they didn't get their kidneys stolen). The two girls we were
with literally didn't speak any English (or Greek for that matter).
After learning their names and their respective countries, Chris
took a stab at starting a conversation:
Chris to his Stripper: "Soooooo! You ever been to the States?"
Chris' Stripper (excitedly): "Ah! You wanta the sex? €100
Euros!"
At which point we realized, "Hey! Wait a minute! This place isn't
a stripclub!" We started giving Grant and Fatty (who at this point
were both getting gouged another €20 each
for their 2nd lapdances) the frantic "Let's get the fuck out of here!"
nod to the door and got up to leave.
Live Show gets the thumbsdown! Here's us in the parking lot trying
to assess the financial damage. Our four Russian "strippers"
managed
to
fleece
the four
of us
for a grand total of €120
in less than 20 minutes! And we still didn't manage to see
any heines! We hopped in the car to drive the remaing 1/4 mile back
to our resort, and in the moment of silence after we were finished
laughing hysterically at what had just happened we all heard Grant
say quietly
to himself: "Hmmmmm. A hundred Euros, eh?" Hahahahaha.
So at 5:45am, we're all in the condo's living room still laughing
about "Live Show" and we see all these flashes coming from the bedroom.
We raced in to find Grant taking pictures of himself in his underwear
in the mirror! We were like "What are you doing?" Grant: "Taking
pictures of myself in my new underwear." Us: "Why?" Grant: "So I
can see what I look like in them!" Us: "Yeah dude, but it's a mirror!
Can't you already see what you look like in them?" Grant: (Says nothing.
Looks at the floor).
And just because I know Grant's got so many fans out there, here's
the pic that Fatty took of him when we ran into the room to see what
he was doing. Oh, and before I forget, later that night I had just
fallen asleep when Grant's chuckling from the bed next to mine woke
me up.
Me: "What's so funny?"
Grant: "Oh, I was just thinking
about what I'm going to say to Valencia next time I see her."
Me: "Valencia?"
Grant: "Valencia. That
was my girl's name at Live Show."
Me: "Oh, right. Valencia. Well, what are going to say?"
Grant (pretending
to have a conversation with Valencia): "Oh, hi Valencia!
Yes, It's nice to see you again too! Me? Oh, I'm fine. Yes, yes,
just great. What about you? How are you doing? Oh, you're fine too?
That's wonderful! What's that,
Valencia? Would I care for a drink? No thanks, I'm not thirsty tonight!
[loooooooong pause] How
about
you jerk
me off for thirty
Euros?"
Holy shit, I laughed so hard I almost had a heart attack. Thus ended
our first day in Crete. Nighty-night!
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