#killedaman

#loveseeing #littlesmilesonpeoplesfaces #happy #cutetext #gotlaid #killedaman #youllneverknow

What they actually mean when ladies say they're on the "hunt" and "slaying"". #lastnightgram #gotweird #slay #literally #killedaman #ladyvamp and #madameD #bts #vampirediaries #musicvideo -- 🎧: @iamdrewdixon "Madame D's" 🎬: @notbychase 💄:@probablyshannonford (at East Ivy Mansion Wedding Venue and Event Space)

In mamallampuram, the home of stone carving, we, of course, saw a lot of stone carving. Some of which had been weathered to the point of just being stone, or had never seen a chisel in its life but was just placed in an apparently interesting position.  We were staying in a guest house in which the proprietor and his cronies all wore nappies and little else. He spent most of his time sat in the doorway of the hostel, legs akimbo, rubbing his exposed pot belly. This seems to be a bit of a theme here as we've seen many men in these nappies furthering the problematic nature of wonen's attire in this country. Children take it one step further and tend to run around town all day with nothing but a string tied around their waists. After a long morning of rock spotting and an incredible lunch served on a leaf and once again, necessitating the use of hands whilst eating rice, We thought we'd take advantage of the beach. Noticing that we were the only white people on the beach and all other females (in a vast minority) were venturing into the sea fully saree'd, we thought it best to venture to a secluded part of the sand before we took our clothes off. This was all very well and good, we frolicked in the waves, had a little sunbathe but were rudely interrupted by three men with camera ready iPhones. This was met by us shouting "THIS IS NOT OK!!" whilst (somewhat unglamorously) pulling on trousers and t-shirts in hast.  We have managed to find one place, however, in all of India where there is something more interesting than us to take pictures of. Crocodiles. Thousands of crocodiles swimming and sunning themselves in their little nature reserve, alongside a few turtles and snakes thrown in for good measure. The tuk-tuk driver who took us to the crocodile bank was the happiest man we've ever met, blasting out some cheesy tunes and demonstrating some incredible dancing. He also took us to the Tiger Cave (no tigers, no cave) where we were asked to be extras in a bollywood movie. Sadly we didn't have the two hours they required as we had a bus that afternoon. This transpired to be far more dramatic than the film would have been anyway. (this is the bit where we kill a man). We boarded the overly packed bus and had to stand with our huge backpacks amongst some rather agitated Indian commuters, we finally got seats and were having a relatively pleasant ride when BANG! the sound of death hit the side of the bus. Given the lack of lane discipline here, there were 3 lanes of traffic travelling in a space designated for one. Lane 3 got a little crowded, forcing lane 2 (us) to swerve a little into lane 1, populated by one small motorcyclist sans helmet. Peering out of the window we saw the motorbike on the floor and people rushing towards the accident. Incredulously, we continued to drive despite the cries and shouts of everyone aboard. Finally we stopped, the shame-faced driver disembarked and subsequently disappeared never to be seen again. A boy then informed us of the facts, that the man had died, we couldn't get another bus but we were relatively close to Pondicherry. All we had to do was make a quick get-away in a tuk-tuk, to then get another bus and then another tuk-tuk. Simple. The first problem we encountered was the fact there were 8 and a half people (one was a child) wanting to make a getaway in the aforementioned tuk-tuk. We, being the youngest and whitest, were left to clamber into the boot, clutching at our huge rucksacks, legs dangling into the road and gradually falling out of the tuk-tuk, inch by perilous inch, every time we hit a bump in the road. Given the recent witnessing of a serious RTA this was not our preferred mode of travel. We finally arrived in Pondicherry where we saw the most horrific excuse for a hostel that has ever put a luminous guest house sign outside its door. Even the owners were embarrassed to show us this hell hole and swiftly pointed us down the road to a slightly less hellish hostel where we may lay our heads for the night. PS. We forgot to mention this before, but the second sighting of such a specimen jogged our memories. We saw siamese twin dogs. Connected by the arse. WTF.