They thought the odds were forty to one.
They were forty to two. Him and his Khukuri.
They thought the odds were forty to one.
They were forty to two. Him and his Khukuri.
Thought you’d appreciate this thread, Comedian...
It is never drawn that is does not taste blood.
I was walking down the mountain in Eastern Nepal by myself in 1983, when a few tough looking guys asked, “Where are your friends?” in Nepali.
I answered back, “Mero Kukri mero sati ho!” (my kukri is my friend) and patted my large kukri knife strapped to the side of my pack. That I knew the language, and carried a large weapon made them literally take a step back and let me pass.
I have one of those knives, given to me by my Dad. It’s very old, but still solid and serviceable. I believe he got it in China or Hong Kong when he was in the Navy right after WWII.