Its thursday let crack open a cold one nerco meme

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ITS THURSDAY LET CRACK OPEN A COLD ONE NERCO MEME DRIVER
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And the driver had to come from Batticaloa with the parts. Of course this being Sri Lanka nothing was quite that simple. Luckily there turned out there was a truck, Anoja was her name that needed to get to Colombo. Which then brought us to the tricky part of how the fucking hell we were going to get a Suzuki Swift back to Colombo.

ITS THURSDAY LET CRACK OPEN A COLD ONE NERCO MEME INSTALL

was batshit crazy) we had Sudu Malli install this and we crossed our fingers. Tracking one down finally in the shop of the townРІР‚в„ўs other crazy mechanic, Meegamuwa Kolla, whom we later learned had a РІР‚Вwire in his headРІР‚в„ў (i.e. The promise of a hot day was kept as instead of diving as we had hoped, we travelled around Oddamavadai, this time with a mercifully silent trishaw driver, in search of a petrol filter. The next morning dawned bright and early.

He then serenaded us with a short tune before bumpily heading off into the night leaving us speechless and not a little traumatized. Then just before he left he showed us another one of his life skills, twisting his ear up and keeping it balled up. Apparently it was because he was quite diligent with his yogaРІР‚В¦yoga I say again. Instead he helped himself to a bottle of beer, regaled us with a story on circumcision and proceeded to show us how his belly dances. It was with a sinking feeling that we realized Ali had no intention on leaving us when we got to the bungalow. Which for political correctness left a bit to be desired.

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We were reassured to hear however that he washes his tuk regularly in the lagoon.Р”Р„li was even full of political soundbites, a particularly witty statement was, mamma Thambi, appi nari, ogollong Sinhala, sinhayaoРІР‚В¦koti thang malla. He also told us he transports corpses in his tuk, a sort of open air hearse. We later learned that he loved to smoke up.which probably explains the ghosts. Ali continued to talk, now he was telling us about his experiences with ghosts on the road.

For a second we thought we were going to be have a sticky end somewhere in a lost field. He took a short but terrifying detour to show us a field where he as involved in a land dispute. There it turned out he was arrested for dealing marijuana and he regaled us with how he used to escape rape on a daily basis, including unwanted specifications of how the victims were chosen as they used rudimentary toilets.Р”Р„li continued to talk and swig beer from a can while we drove on. He started off with tales of how he used to run goods for the LTTE and the army, until both were pissed off with him and he had to move to Colombo. As we had reached the limit of what we could do for the night we arranged a tuk to get back to base and a jovial character by the name of Ali picked us up.Р”Р„s we proceeded to buy a couple of beer bottles (to console ourselves) Ali with great gusto started talking. The garage, actually a large field with a shack, turned out to be the haunt of Sudu Malli, the black as night mechanic who soulfully advised us to get a new filter and he would try his best the next day.

While DJ and I stood bewildered he in quick succession organized a truck to tow us to the nearest garage. As I pushed the Swift to the side of the road (itРІР‚в„ўs a surprisingly light car) a motorcycle spluttered to a stop and our Guardian Angel turned up to assist, heavily disguised of course as a mustachioed and saronged old man, GB Kahn. It was then that we started to meet the inhabitants. Rather befuddled we sat in the car for a few minutes before deciding to move it to the side of the road in case a passing combine harvester gave us a gentle tap on the back in the approaching gloom. Shortly followed by a warning light on dashboard and the death rattle of the engine seizing up. Over the Kayankerni bridge as we rattled along the newly built road we heard a thud. Thus fortified with this foolish idea we proceeded to Oddamaivadi to get some beer. We decided that nothing would cap the day better than a couple of beers. It was then that we made our fatal mistake. IРІР‚в„ўm still not sure how this was but the air from our tanks tasted of strawberries and the dives were simply world class.Р”Р„s the sun set on the beach at Kayankerni we exultantly discussed our evidence on what the ship could be, the length indicated a World War II wreck but there was still much to be done the next day to further uncover the mystery. An eagle ray soared past us as we hovered over the wreck and huge trevalley moved in the shadows as we swam into the ghostly ship lying scatted on the bottom and hordes of snappers swirled above us, a solid mass of fish. Admittedly the 3am drive down left a bit to be desired but the two dives on the mystery wreck were mind blowing.

Its thursday let crack open a cold one nerco meme