Backpackers are always looking for cheap digs so www.couchsurfers.com is the perfect resource for skint nomads. The site puts 'Couchsurfers' in touch with like minds and a place to crash for a night or two. It markets itself as a unique way of discovering the 'authentic' culture of the host Couchsurfer.
Check the website out. There are eight posts advertising couches in Iraq. Honestly.
I would donate my balls to science for a chance to be a fly on the wall at Bagdhad International when some dumb Aussie backpacker disembarks at the arrivals gate looking for his new Couchsurfing chums:
"G,day mate. I'm Bruce. You guys must be my new Couchsurfing buddies."
"The River Tigris will run red with your blood, infidel pig."
"Strewth! You guys are the real deal. Hey mate, do all Iraqi's carry swords like yours?"
"Oh yes. It is very normal."
"No shit, eh. I love yer balaclava too mate. Did you get it from the Billabong outlet."
"Thank you very much infidel and no, I did not get it in Billabong. My mother wove it from the hair of our last hos... I mean, Couchsurfer. Please now allow me to carry your infidel bags to our car and we will drive you to our accomodation."
"Aw mate, you're the best. Wow! Real AK47's too! Awesome!"
"Please Mr Bruce. You must get in the trunk. We do not have enough seats, you see."
"Bonza, mate! Aw wow! Nice trunk mate."
"We are making a movie of your visit Mr Bruce. Please smile for my camcorder."
"Sure thing mate (grins)."
Thud.
Meanwhile, back in arrivals, the CIA have also devised a Couchsurfing ploy to take the hard work out of killing Arabs. Afterall, why hunt terrorists in the Bora Bora Caves when you can pick'em up at Bagdhad airport?
Dumb Aussie MkII: "G'day mate. I'm Stevo. You must be my new Couchsurfing buddies."
Agent 1 (to Agent 2): "Psst... he don't look like no raghead, Hank."
Agent 2: "Well he ain't gonna tattoo it on his forehead is he, dumb-ass. It's gotta be a trick."
Agent 1: "Welcome to Ee-rack, buddy. Glad you could come."
Aussie: "Aw wow! I didn't think you Iraqis would sound just like Americans. Flamin' hell, I didn't expect you to be wearing gold-trimmed bedouin robes and carrying ceremonial scimitars either."
Agent 1 (to Agent 2): "Goddammit Hank. I told you this disguise was over the top. This sting's a stoopid idea?"
Agent2 : "Shut the fuck up and stop calling me Hank you idiot. What did I say about using our real names?"
Agent 2 (to Aussie): "Whatever do you mean my noble Australian jihadi comrade. Everyone here dresses like this and talks with American accents. That's why we have to kill the infidels, right?"
Aussie: "Jihad? Strewth mate! I've got no idea what you're skwakin' about. I'm just here to surf and put some yabbies on the barbie."
Agent 2: "Aha (wink wink, nudge nudge). You want to surf in yankee blood and barbecue their hearts? We can talk plans in our humble locally-made automobile. Let me carry your bags. (Agent 1 produces hand-help x-ray machine)
Aussie: "Wow! Six armoured Chevy Blazers just for me. Bonza! You Iraqis really hit gold. They'll be perfect for the beach, guys."
Agent 2: "Uh sure, the beach. First we gotta make a stop at our personal hangar down the street. Say buddy. You don't mind getting in the trunk do ya? There's no seats up front."
Aussie: "No probs mate, where are we going?"
Agent 2: "Cuba, asshole."
Thud
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