fatty


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After fucking around for too long in Bali, we ended up having to make the 35 minute trip back to our condo at dusk (freezing our asses off the whole way). After dropping the bikes off and picking up our car, we headed to a nearby restaurant for an early dinner.
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Back in Bali, we stopped to take pics.
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Fatty and Grant.
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Me and Dave.
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Here's Fatty with ANOTHER potential JDate photo. This one gets my vote. Nothing gets those cyber Jewesses hotter than knowing a man's into spelunking. Awwwww, yeah.
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...I claimed I wanted to get a picture of these three on their way down, but it was really just my sneaky was of getting them to go first in case there were any ScoobyDoo-esque villians waiting below.
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Fatty, Grant and Chris.
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The four of us read this truly amazing story and reflected upon it for a few minutes...
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...before racing over to the cases and posing for pictures with the skulls of bad-ass, martyred Cretans who blew themselves up in order to take out some Turks.
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The backroad route we took was amazing. There were all these tiny towns that with the exception of cars and electricty, seemed otherwise untouched by the 20th century. Check out the donkeys saddled with bags in the background.
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Hahahah.
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We managed to go only another hundred yards, before we realized that we needed to get gas. And hey, while we were stopped, we popped into the bakery that was nextdoor and got some still-warm doughnuts that were almost as big as our faces.
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We saddled back up on our HOGGZ and hit the road. We only managed to get about 1/4 mile when Grant, who was leading the pack, slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road hysterically laughing and pointing...
The pics above are sorta funny - but they do not, in ANY WAY, compare to the video. If you don't have Windows Media Player installed, this is the REASON to install it. For seriously.
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Seasoned veterans at this point in the trip, we even managed to drink our raki without so much as a grimmace. Opa! Opa!
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Then he got passed over to the Fatty.
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Our appetitizers were comprised of the usual suspects: Greek salad, garlic bread, olives, beans and Amstels. Mmmmmm.
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After he got his laughter a bit under control, we went into the kitchen to get a chair to stand on...
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While Grant manned my camera, I promptly gave my nuts a super-close tour of Fatty's face. After we were done laughing at the pictures, I made the mistake of bragging to Grant that it was going to be the funniest braining picture to ever be posted on this site. Not one to EVER shy from competition of ANY type, Grant insisted I get the video camera out and document his attempt to get his balls even closer to Fatty's (poor, sleeping, unsuspecting) face than I had. At first I didn't want to risk Grant trumping my achievement, but then I thought about how Fatty had helped scare Grant a few days prior (if you haven't seen the scaring Grant vidoe series, go there NOW) and realized that Grant deserved a chance to get Fatty back on tape (well that and the fact that there was a good chance that Fatty might wake up and break Grant's nuts off and if that happened, I wanted to make sure I managed to get THAT on tape).
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Here's Grant's first attempt. Not even close. And he was laughing so hard that we was afraid he was going to wake Dave up.
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If you look closely, you can just barely see Grant peeking out between me and Fatty.
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"Yep, you're right Brian. You totally do need to cut off your silly, hippy hair."
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...which allowed him to lean in and totally win the "who can get their nuts closest to Fatty's face" contest. Holy shit. Bravo, Grant. Bravo.
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We drove back to our resort and loafed around relaxing. Grant and I came back from reading outside on the porch to discover that our dear, dear friend the Fatty had made the fatal mistake of falling asleep with his headphones on. Uh-oh! We all know what that means!
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Then back near the car, we goofed off and took some pictures of us on the sea wall.
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...Kostas Vallassos' restaurant for some lunch. If you look over in the background to the left of Fatty you'll see the man himself!
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We drove back into downtown Rethymnon, parked the car, and headed back over to...
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The three of us headed back to our condo to try to convince the still-sleeping boys to head into town and getting some food. Check out the Fatty totally passed out from the previous night's exploits. Beeeeeg guy on a leeeeetle couch!
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...of Grant giving Fatty one of the best "Wedgie Sneak Attacks" ever captured on film. AWESOME. Less awesome is the fact that I didn't manage to capture the clobbering swing he administered to Grant's leg as he painfully reacted to the friction of a yard's-worth of fabric being zipped through his ass crack.
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On our walk through the condo's courtyard, Fatty spotted this snail and asked me to take a "Look ladies! I love nature!" photo for his now-formidable Jdate photo arsenal. What Fatty didn't realize was that as he bent over to get in close to the snail, Grant had snuck up behind him and signaled to me to get ready to take a second photo...
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Here's Fatty, Grant and Chris upon arrival - quasi-drunk from dinner and already in awe of the stupid amounts of hot Greek women. (Make sure to look at all three of their priceless expressions).
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Looky, looky! What's going on here in this picture? After Grant was done giving her the "See, aren't we fun guys?" photo review, she quickly cozied up to tha Grizza.
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Throwing down for the cam.
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Meanwhile, back at home base, Grant seemed to be making serious flirty headway with the lovely Tymber.
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Yaaaaay, Amstel.
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It was getting pretty late and Shelby, Tymber's roommate, seemed like she was tired and getting ready to go home. Grant sensing that Shelby was going to try to get Tymber to leave early with her, tried to get Shelby in the mix out on the dance floor in hopes that she'd stay a little longer. Check out the Fatty peeping Grant's crafty "Hey, now let's ALL dance together!" move from the sidelines. Smoooooooooth! Hahaha.
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Here's Fatty and I reacting to the rarely seen Grant "I Have Giant Brass Balls" Stoddard.
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With the leather-panted Gunther giving us the stinkeye from across the table we took a view pictures more pics without her in the background to try to throw him off our perv trail. By the way, ever notice how stuff like Coke, ketchup and McDonalds always taste not-so-great overseas? Well with beer, it works the other way around. The beer we are drinking is Amstel. (not Amstel light, regular Amstel) Maybe it was the crisp sea breeze or the abundance of badobnkadonk butts out there but it was hands down one of the best beers I've ever had.
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The less photogenic he becomes. This one is definitely not J. Date material.
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The thing is, the drunker he get and the more pictures he takes. . .
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When Fatty has had a little too much too drink, he starts taking self portraits.
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And then a group shot. HA HA HA HA. Notice in the background you can see the chick's equally-attractive German boyfriend totally catching on to what we were up too. Das gig ist up, ja?
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The camera never lies. That's why the picture is blurred. But turn down a complimentary digestif in Greece and you might get your ass handed to you along with the check. Looks like we have some shots to drink. Oh well, here's to minimal liver damage.
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My mouth. . .
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We had been sitting down for over an hour by the time our steaks arrived. Here's Fatty with steak in a creamy sauce and chunky cut veggies.
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Which was followed, of course, by more raki. Being Americans (which are somewhat of a novelty to the locals as far as foreigners go) and adding that we had a member of our party that spoke fluent Greek, we were brought complimentary raki at the conclusion of pretty much every meal we ate. And because it's being offered gratis, it's considered an insult to not drink it. Fatty's face in this pic sums up how we were beginning to feel about having to do shots at the end of every meal.
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Aw, yeah. Let's hear it for culture.
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We lament not checking with the dancing piranha people before scheduling our trip.
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What we really wanted to see was the labyrinth, a torture chamber or even an honest-to-goodness Minotaur. (half-man half bull)
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Yet another possible JDate photo opp for the Fatty. "Dude, it says to chicks 'I like culture and stuff' ". As handsome as he looks ladies, just keep in mind that moments after posing for this picture he ran off to "look for the torture chamber."
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When Fatty showed me the great mid-air picture he captured of me jumping of the rock, we decided we needed a picture of EVERYONE jumping off the rock. So without further ado, here we go!
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Fatty jumping off the rock.
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Hahahaha. This is definitely NOT JDate photo material.
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...yet another photo-sesh in which Fatty tried to capture the perfect JDate photo. Here's the Hasselhoff
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And here's Fatty accidentally taking the two worst pictures ever of himself.
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Seriously, check it. From the hair right down to the glasses, he's got it down! Even the man himself gives Fatty a "thumbs up" for his flawless impression.
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After perfecting David, it was time for him to work on his Pamela.
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Hahahahaha.
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We gathered up our beach stuff and headed across the inlet over to a deserted part of the beach.
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Where we proceeded to throw down group beach coldlamps, awww yeah. Check out all the rocks on the beach. The waves there made the craziest sound. Each time the water washed out back towards to ocean, it would drag all of the smaller rocks across the larger rocks on the bottom and make this bizarre, underwater rumbling noise. After a quick swim, we laid down to dry off in the sun and were all quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of the water.
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Fatty taking a self-portrait of his puffy beach-hair Jew-fro. Suh-weet!
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Here's us bright and early out on our front porch enjoying a breakfast of Greek yogurt and granola. Mmmmmmmm. (ps - what's up, busted dudes in the morning?)
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Grant and The Fatty.
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Seriously, what's better than lunch in Crete? Check out the apps: Two Greek salads, Spanakopita (flaky Greek phyllo dough filled with spinach and feta), and tzatziki (which is yogurt with olive oil, dill and more garlic that you've ever tasted in anything before ever). Soooooo fucking tasty. Holy shit, I almost just drooled on myself captioning this picture.
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And here's Fatty using the timer on his camera in pursuit of "the perfect photo for his JDate.com profile." Seriously, everytime we turned around, this kid was snapping clandestine self-portraits to later use to ensnare hot, cyber Jewesses. More on this later.
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Thanks, Kostas!
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Hungry boys.
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After dinner, Grant went to the car to take a nap while Chris, Fatty and I got ice cream and debated whether or not we were up for another (most-likely uneventful) night out on the town (By the way, check out a totally butt-ass wasted Fatty double-fistin' it with TWO cones!). As we sat outside eating our ice cream, I noticed, lo and behold, that there was a super-cute girl working the door of the club across the street giving us the hairy eyeball. So after I finished my ice cream, I walked across the street to chat her up and discovered...
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...he brought out more white wine. Amidst all the merriment (shit-talking and recalled moments of scooter-glory), we suddenly realized that we were all completely shit-hammered. When we (slurringly) asked him, "Kostassssch, why are we schooooo drunk?" He explained that the local wines contained approximately 14% alcohol. (Which explains why these pics are starting to get as blurry as our vision was).
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Fatty and Chris.
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After taking naps and showering, we all got back on our scooters, gassed them up...
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How tough is the Fatty in this pic? See that drop off behind Fatty in the pic? That's actually a steep road that leads down to this little tiny part of the penninsula that goes out into the water. We drove down to explore and take a closer look.
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What started out as a quick stop to snap some pics of the view...
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Fatty elected to kick it old school with a famous standby: "JC Penny Catalog Coldlamp #427."
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Hahaha. What's better than Fatty's camo helmet by LAZER?
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Twenty minutes later, we made it to the first of Balí's beaches. Here's Fatty taking in the view from the road.
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Like I mentioned earlier, tourist season had just recently ended, so the place we went to was staffed by only one little old lady. She took our order and then cooked all four of our significant breakfasts all by her little old self. Which was almost as impressive as it was time consuming. Here's a pre-coffee, "cranky n' hungry" portrait of Fatty and Grant.
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Grant and Fatty took a quick ride to pick up some snacks and drinks at a nearby store.
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Biiiiiiig guuuuuuuuy on a liiiiiiiiiitle biiiiiiiiike!
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Grant was pretty spooked about the broken gas line. His grandmother had once told him "Whatever you do, DON'T ride a moped in Greece! Promise me, ok?" and he felt like it was a sign that he shouldn't get back on the bike. But we told him, "Stop being silly. She said MOPED in GREECE! You're on a SCOOTER in CRETE! Apples and oranges, my friend! It's totally different! Stop being such a pussy!"
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I don't know if you know this, but Greeks drive like crazy people. Wait, that doesn't quite do it justice. More like FUH-HUH-HUH-KING CAH-RAZY PEOPLE! It makes no sense. You walk around Crete and all you see are these chilled out playas all taking it easy, sipping their coffee, taking their four-hour breaks...but all of a sudden, put one of them chilled dudes behind the wheel of a anything with a motor and all of the sudden they've GOT FUCKING PLACES TO BE SO MOVE OR BE KILLED! With that in mind, full-well knowing that renting scooters on a Greek island might lead to an early death, we decided to head to the restaurant across the street and enjoy what might very well be our last meal:
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We hit the road and were headed for Balí when about three minutes into the trip Grant's bike stalled out and wouldn't restart. We all pulled over and a quick examination revealed that the liquid puddling underneath his bike was, in fact, gasoline. Yep, blown gas line. No big deal we figured. We'd all ride back and get Grant a new bike. Chris hopped on his bike to come with us, and his bike wouldn't restart either. FUCK! So Fatty and Chris agreed to wait 1/2 mile down the road while Grant and I went back to talk to the scooter guy.
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."
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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)...
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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.
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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 & J Crowley, who have both frequently use their web pages to expound upon the most excellent deliciousness of this culinary wonder of the Lower East Side)
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... and of course, David "The Fatty" Fateman!
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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.
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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).
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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.
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"Parliament!"
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...and then got the hell off that windy-ass bridge.
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We hurriedly snapped a few more pics (Here's me wearing Westminster Abbey as a hat)...
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...the center emergency row! Let's hear it for extra leg room. Awww, yeah.
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...and grabbed the train to Heathrow to catch our 10:20pm flight and kick off the next leg of the trip: Crete!
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...packed up our stuff...
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Clark: "Look kids! Big Ben!"
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After our beers, we walked over into Chinatown to get lunch.
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We chatted up the totally cute Greek girls working the Olympus Airlines ticketing counter and they hooked the four of us up with...
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After that, we hopped back onto the tube, headed back to Charlene's flat...