A lot of people here asking 'why'? And a few answering about the whole spiritual side of things. I don't know this particular woman's motives. I do, however, know quite a few other women's motives when it comes to travelling to India. And the photo of her Mum seems to confirm that somewhat. I apologize if I am jumping to conclusions.
The reason that most of the people I know, who go to India, is to go to Goa to do drugs and party. Simple as.
Aaaand... oh, look, it's Goa!
I didn't even know this murder took place in Goa till I just saw the photos of the Mum and put 2+2 together.
See this article:
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/mar/17/goa-irish-british-danielle-mclaughlin-murder-palolem
Nearly 250 tourists dead in the last 12 years. Not sure how they died, and only skimmed the article. Not that interested either way at the moment.
The reason I jumped the gun with this one is because I drifted down memory lane and spent the last couple of hours writing this long post. I'm going to tenuously shoe-horn it here in to this thread, I hope you don't mind. Keep in mind I didn't know about Goa when I wrote this, but I'll let it stand, as it adds its own effect.
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I had a 'girlfriend' that went to India for a few months. We were more platonic like than proper boy/girlfriend. As I will explain.
I met her at a rave, friend of a friend kind of thing. She was ugly as fuck, perhaps a 4 maybe? I was smitten. Her front teeth were busted to shit, her hair was a mess, and she just didn't give a crap. I liked her a lot. She was fun and she was intelligent, and I had been missing those qualities in women I was picking up at the time - early/mid 90's London club/drug scene.
I ended up going back to her house and being invited in to her bedroom to do some Class A's with her. She was a serious drug fiend and could out-drug any man and put them under the table. Obviously not wife material, but I choose who I like and who I spend my time with. Woman are no exception to that.
I was already wrecked, more tired than anything else, and the thought of a strong line of Coke made me feel ill as I knew how it would wire my already tired brain. Law of diminishing returns - I quit while I was ahead. She however, had no such qualms, she just did my share as well. I think she expected us to get it on, and the bang was on the table, but truth be told, I just couldn't be arsed. I wanted to get home and wake up in my own bed. Wouldn't be the first time I've turned down a 'deffo', but easy come easy go, never regret, not banging a ho, coz there's always mo', jus' let it go. Hey ho.
Well, I obviously had let it go, but in the dark deep recesses of her mind, she obviously had not, and I'll tell you why. I'll show you how women can keep a grudge, hidden, festering, and you just wouldn't know. In fact, I met up with her a couple of times for drinks (like I said, she was good company - totally off her rocker) - I'm not sure if she thought we might get it together at this late stage, but it should have been blatantly obvious it was never going to happen.
Fast forward a few months. She went to India on holiday and came back a transformed woman.
Went out to one of my mate's special select b'day party where he had hired a place and there were a couple of hundred people there. Great atmosphere. Lots of friends and friends of friends kind of thing. The sort of social event where you can make friends because people know your friends kind of thing. I broadened my social circle that night.
And the reason I remember all this from so far back? Well, old 'Millitant' we shall call her - her name was Millie, probably short for Millicent or whatever, but Militant she most certainly was. A tomboy sjw radical feminist. Like I said, she was a lot of fun!
Anyway, at this event, she suddenly appears, no longer the pale ugly duckling with the broken teeth. She had undergone some kind of deep transformation from a 4 to a 9. I shit you not. It was breathtaking. She had had her teeth fixed perfectly, she was sun-tanned and glowing. She wore a tight Silver dress of some kind of shiny sequin material that clung to her body like clingfilm. And fuck me, what a body.
I never knew. I probably would have banged her if I had. But her, being the radical junky feminist that she was, hid her bush under a bushel, so to speak. What a cunt! Depriving me of that. But I wasn't going to be gotten the better of by this little beauty. Oh no my brothers, not I.
(Oh, and the legs! Tight, perfectly proportioned perfection. Round arse and buxom with it too)
I needed to get a grip and fast. This was the sort of thing that could crush a lesser man than I. But not tonight, Millitant!
I knew the game. It didn't take long to work it out. Still obviously sore over the fact I didn't bang her 6 months earlier. I gave it a bit, thinking that perhaps she might not have seen me, but when it became apparent that she had and she was avoiding me, well... actually, she wasn't so much 'avoiding' me, rather, making sure I had seen her, then darting off or going to talk to someone else so I couldn't even approach. The cunt! *
So I thought, alright, I know how this goes. This will go on all night - I'm not going to play feminazi whackamole with her like a simp - she's not going to approach me to even say hello, so I'll be the bigger man. I know what she wants: she wanted to see me grovel or be upset, so I had to give her 'a little something' of what she so desired. But grovel or ask for a phone no. I most certainly was not going to do. But I had to bait her, just to triple check I had my facts straight about what exactly was happening here. Why was she totally blanking me? A former 'friend', potential boyfriend, desired fuckboi...
Yes, she wanted me to eat shit, so I bided my time, put my lizard brain in to full effect. I tracked her like a true predator, making sure she didn't see me stalking her. And then I pounced!
Calmly and confidently I walked up to her in a rare moment when she wasn't being hovered over by her new man. I said "Wow, you look absolutely stunning tonight Millitant."
And then I paused - just a brief moment, but that was all it took for her to take her cue:
She just pulled a smirky little fuckface, cocked her head coquettishly to the side, curled her lip and bared her teeth in that animalistic way that some women do on social media to look 'edgy', as if to say 'Oh don't you worry, I KNOW!', and then she pirouetted on her high heels, turning her back to me dramatically and sauntering off. I never spoke to her again in my life!
LOL. Well, LOL now, but back then more like: I walked back to the bar and had another beer and a little chuckle to myself, both externally and internally - she did not disappoint. Oh I knew the game alright.
Well, you know women - just can't resist to hit you hardest when you are down and they are strongest - she wasn't going to get a better power differential than this and she certainly did not squander it. I bet it made her wet.
Remember this young guns:
Hell hath no fury like a woman who gets turned down for a bang. How dare I? She hid her bitterness pretty well though after this and only went full bitch after her new awakening coming back from street-shitter central ** - probably high on life (as well as all the coke she used to do) and just glad to be alive generally if reports these days are anything to go by.
Anyway, Millitant by name and militant by nature, obviously. I expect she would have looked wrecked by 10am the next morning when I knew for a fact she would be through her 3g of coke, and phoning one of her dealers and doing a little crowd funding among the still want-to-keep-the-party-going types and hangers-on. And this would go on all day, till the next morning, even, by when she would really look the part. I can't lie though, I would have, just for the body alone.
Funny thing is if she had called me a bastard and told me that she loved me, I would have banged her in the toilets if she had asked nicely, but no she had to be a cunt about it. Fuck her. Anyway, once you've had LTRs with super-model 10s, it's hard to give the fucks about the little tiddlers that got away.
Easy come, easy go, chaps. Abundance mentality is real.
Ooh look, there's my bus, and another one right behind it too - which one shall I take?...
I didn't get laid that night, it was a quiet one for me - few beers and home to bed, probably a joint or two to unwind. But there was a time when stuff like that would have crushed me deep inside. And I still hadn't discovered 'game' back then - if I had I would have been bloody dangerous. It was some kind of natural game that comes as you progress through an understanding of human nature in general. Like I said, I made a few 'friends' that night - it was a good day!
As for India? Well, I don't know if she did find herself. But I bet she found the nearest fucking drug dealer she could get a good price with - she liked to buy in bulk and haggling was part of her strategy - so she probably had the time of her life there, hence her 'big gloating smile' when she got back.
In fact, I'm not even sure where she went in India, but being the incorrigible drug-drug-druggy that she was, I would bet a pound to a pinch of coke that is was probably Goa - she loved her trance music for sure. So did I at the time.
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* When I say 'cunt' I mean it humorously, for those without a sense of humour that think all men are bastards. In fact, I spent a whole week researching the etymology of that very word. Simply fascinating, perhaps a whole other thread in itself if it doesn't already exist. I use the word here as a term of endearment. Bless the little junky radical feminist!
** I mean no disrespect to India or its people in general. In fact I have extremely deep respect for certain aspects of both its culture and people. But I'll give it a pass on the whole street-shitting thing if you don't mind. That shit has to go and more people need to call it out.
............
So, why do women go to India? Damned if I know, but I do know why 'some' women go to India. Hope you don't mind the long post.
