Day 5: Keeps' Birthday & Full Moon Party

Day 5: Keeps' Birthday

A year ago Keeps' birthday began the week of doss, where I got ski-poled with Harry by a young girl, who begged for us to let her stop, Keeps' had 'fucking loads of gear' and sacked off his A Levels, and Henry fucked several people in my parents bed, leaving a used condom deliberately under their sheets for me to explain when they returned, I'm not sure what Mo was doing, maybe he was there, I forget, he's a forgetable person, maybe he was making bombs, or pondering over his virginity, I just don't know. Today we were in Koh Tao, a little hung over, my thigh smelling of the Scottish man's knob, and the blonde bird nowhere to be seen.

We went snorkling. Perhaps a tame birthday celebration. But we did meet Martin Jol. Some big Dutch perv got on our boat, and told us about how he was here to see the 'great techno music yea guys' at the Full Moon Party. He was here to rim small Asian men, but we let him sit with us.

About 40,000 fish attacked me at one point when Harry threw water melon in the water next to me. We later found out that water melon kills fish.

Got a cracking upskirt underwater. Was following this bird for a while, really good looking, about 21, tanned, Australian, birth mark on the back of her calf, mole just above her bikini line. She was swimming in front of me, probably trying to get away, and her bikini moved to the side and I got a small glimpse (enough to cherish) of her glistening pink lips.

A meal out with a few Changs. The real birthday celebration will be tomorrow. We promised everybody back in Newcastle that Keeps' wouldn't survive the trip, so hopefully tomorrow with enough mushrooms we'll finish him off.

We're all burnt and mosquitoes have eaten me to fucking pieces. I got a bit scared thinking it was an STI, because the bites were just blotchy red patches leading right up my leg, but a woman told me I'd be fine.

Full Moon Party

Henry was close to pulling out. The first reason was because he's been all fucking depressed about his bird. We can't tell him that she's a fat extremely average bamp, because we care about him, and don't want to send him on another tuc frenzy. (The tuc frenzy involved Henry (Captain Calories) eating a pot of cottage cheese and 2 packets of tuc crackers, crying and dribbling down his chin, thanking us for being there for him- all in an attempt to get over her, which failed). The other reason he nearly dropped out is because in the last 24 hours he's been to the toilet more times than me, which is impressive, and now he's just shitting out murky water with little bits of noodle in. He looks hanging and weak, but we told him that there would be loads of dripping wet pussys, sweaty, and ready for him to delve into at the Full Moon Party, and this was enough to convince him. So after another five shits before breakfast, he was on the boat with us.

We met up with a few of Mo's friend from uni, after a fucking trek up a mountain in the heat. Mo had described them as really fun and good patter. The reality was that they were posh cunts from Cambridge. Mo has claimed to have fucked one of them. Claimed being the key word. It's like when you were younger and you went on holiday to Tenerife with your parents and you got back and told all your mates you got a blowie in the pool of a bird called Pauline and then she let you blow your load in between her legs. It's always fucking Pauline, and it's always Tenerife, and it's never true.

On the plus side, one of his mates was stunning. Really tanned, thin, 'total hard body', greased up in tanning oil and probably desperate for anything but a piece of the Porker.

We drank a bit and then went for dinner at this Jewish retauraunt. Loads of Jews had written their names and a little message on the walls in crayon. It took a lot of restraint not to put a massive red swastika on the wall.

After dinner, we went up to mushroom mountain. Mo, Harry and Jonny had mushroom shakes. Henry didn't fancy it because it would go through him in minutes, and I bailed because the last time I took drugs in Newcastle I thought my head was a balloon and was floating off and then thought I was having a stroke. Nothing happened at first. We met up with Oscar and Imran, and sat and drank buckets of whiskey on the beach.

Then it hit Jonny. Thai men were coming up to us with snakes and gekkos. Jonny is scared of snakes when he's sober, so on mushrooms he had a panic attack. He thought everybody was a snake, every bang from the fireworks was a giant fucking snake behind him. It was funny to watch. He was screaming and sweating and trying to hide under the table.

So many fit birds. Thousands. Not enough hangers for me, I'll have to drastically up my game if I even want to stand a chance of getting a handy (one I don't have to pay for) tonight. I was lathered in a thick sweat and my tshirt was sticking to my bloated gut- I had one of the worst beach bodies there.

Gradually we got more pissed as the night went on. Me and Oscar pulled two Australian birds. I took the very short straw and pulled the fat one and she forced her tongue down my throat and bit my lips. Harry drifted off with some Sweedish bird and dipped his cock in her before she ran off. And Mo found some bird who cock teased him for the night, so the thirty condoms he bought in Boots before he came, still remain unopened in his bag. (By the way that I'm writing this diary, I'm acting like I fuck a lot of birds. Truthfully my sexual records is terrible. By the time this trip is up, over 40% of my fucks are Thai, and 6 of my sexual experience have involved other men. But at least I'm not a virgin.)

We saw one person fall off a very tall scaffolding onto the ground, and didn't see him get up. Two big Russian pricks, who were nails, started a fight with us, but we bailed, and watch them throw a full can of beer at a group of girls and then start on the lads they were with. Me and Jonny watched Thai men steal handbags from the floor and did nothing about it. Tried desperately hard to find a girl, but failed, so just danced aggressively until 6am and then hit a wall.

It's hard to remember all that happened that night. What was most memorable was the taxi ride back to the boat. One of Henry's mates (who call him Geordie) from uni met up with us. We were all cramped up in the back of a van with a few American birds. He went to fucking town on them. Some of the best rips I've heard:

'Where you from?'
'We're from America.'
'I don't give a fuck where you're from, you're dirty little whores aren't you?'
'Sorry?'
'You're fucking American sluts and if you back answer me again I'll rip your chocloate starfish up with my teeth, understand me.'
'Jees, your friends a total asshole.'
'What was that you cock hungry cunts, you cum guzzling whores, how many wrinkls do you have on your tuna fish? Twelve? You little sluts.'

It went on like that for a while. It was hard not to laugh. The taxi ride back to the boat was awkward and silent.

Never has sleep been more appreciated. We slept for a day, rave paint saying 'Service me shitter' up our arms and giant swastikas still all over us, and that ended Keeps' birthday party.