Today. Flying and Crying

That was a big day. I'm currently in thailand. Yesterday I woke up at 11am after 3 hours sleep, I was well too excited for the next days activities. I went to work last night till 11pm then I went to the airport and flew out of darwin at 3am. My flight to and out of singapore was fine got to KUL with time to spare but still dashed just to get in a spot of cardio in. Waited nearly an hour for my bags to come up... fear set in. Went as fast as I could frantically scaling the trains and elevators and escalators and tunnels and fucking shark bearing lakes that is KLIA-KLIA2, for fuck sake i grew up in a whole town that was 1 hundredth of that fucking airports size, I would not be a least bit surprised if ol'MH370 is just parked up somewhere in that fucking snacks and ladders jungle that they call an airport, probably just waiting on a fuel truck to come hook them up so they can push back and be on their way.

Anyway, I missed my flight to Sri Lanka, missed doing the clothing drop with the smile guys and missed glorifying how I got in and out of KUL in and hr 50. After that I tried every airline, they were throwing figures like $1700 one way basic economy, it's a 3hr flight for cunts sake! I booked a flight for $600 doll hairs not happy about it but I was on my way again... oh nup, that bad boy got cancelled didn't it. I was boarder line tears and considering just flying back to Darwin and admitting defeat to the concrete when some random old Malaysian guy came up to me and asked me what was wrong ( I must of been omitting desperate vibes) I told him my gig and that my only option was 1700 or wait for 24hrs for the next days flights yadda yada, old mate from no where pulls his iphone 5's out with mophie extra battery case and I'm thinking this old dude looks like he can barely see his glasses let alone tear down structures with angry birds and such, but the old dog just starts whaling this things like its a les paul next thing he's got my credit card and we are running for a gate and I don't know what the fuck is going on, am I about to be raped by this guy and if so has my drought been long enough to almost be hoping that that's the scenario.... any way turns out he is some sort of travel agent Yoda and has found a way for me to pay 500 and get to colombo before midnight tonight... which is why im now in thailand on my way to colombo.... thank you travel agent yoda, although im dissapointed you didnt help break my drought you did save me from going king kong up in this bitch. still no sleep, im looking down the barrel of a 36-40hr sesh. #bongon

Common Misconceptions Intro/Birth

Of late I've been slacker than the rope strung between 2 posts in an inappropriately busy spot under some pseudo hippies attention grabbing feet. When you only walk the earth at night though, being anything but slack is tough. The sun gives you so much energy, like way more than I ever thought and since I've been working night shift for the last month I've been sleeping pretty much every second I'm not working eating or in transit between the 3. I finished work sunday morning at 5am and started at 5pm monday night, for the maths C people in the room thats 36 hrs I had off, I slept 28 of those hours, no shit 2by 12hrs and a 4 hr power nap. How the fuck Bill and Eric are ever able to put up with Sookies shit I have no idea. When I'm doing these night shifts, replying to a simple text feels like I'm developing some new ground breaking algorithm for fixing homosexuality. Jokes, calm ya farm.

So I drafted up a post a while back yonder's ago that was titled "Things you're getting wrong on facebook", I just jotted up a couple key points and when I went to elaborate on one of the topics I realised there was enough subject for individual posts. So I've decided to do some what of a series using these facebook fuck ups (much like the friday phrase, which subsequently had to be shut down once I became re-immune to work site language and now probably say worse fucking things than any cunt) I have gotten pretty deep on one about beards but as yet can't complete because I feel the over sleep has me in far to a pansy a state to really do it justice so I'll just drop the smallest of the lot in this post and hopefully on my up coming break get something a bit bigger and brutal.

Birthday Appreciation Appreciation.

Some people choose not to show the date of their birthday on FB page, I for one am not one of those idiots. I figure if I'm going to have a facebook account I might as well be getting the milk from it's tit otherwise whats the good in the cow that you can't slaughter and eat at the end anyway. There's 2 good things about facebook, the first is using it as a tool to gather information i.e. traveling shit, fixing shit, buy/sell shit, see if someones single and shit... The other is to gloat about things that before facebook/instagram pretty much went completely unnoticed to people that weren't directly in contact with u at the point of happenings. Pre-fbook if you got a really good breakfast with epic looking berries (fuck as I'm writing this I realise that pre social media I don't remember food looking so cool or even cafes looking cool, I definitely don't think people were going to coachella and if so there wasn't massive useless spacemen and shit there, fuck social media just mad everything 100 times more cosmetic slash probably expencive...) anyway back from that epiphany, yeah if you had one of this things no one cared in the slightest, you didn't care, why should you- the berries, granola and swirled bush honey from Istanbul would soon be ingested and after your body took all the good things if you were male, it would pass out as poo... not really worth sharing to other people (females I don't know how that stuff leaves your body or if that's what in the end makes babies...). Now days though, we gloat and gloat and goat (did that on purpose gloat and goat so close but so far) about anything we think might warrant a "like" and when we get it we are so pumped.... pumped someone took the time to click once on there mouse or more likely in this day and age track pad on a love heart or thumbs up and approve our gloating.

This is what brings me to my birthday subject, when your yearly birth anniversary rolls round and everyone does the little post on ya page and ya feel good, and you should feel good it does feel good but when that happens it should be kept that way. Just you feeling good. When people have written their little diddy on your page they've already seen that you are getting a lot of diddies, in some case diddie on diddies on diddies. So when this has happened there is no need for you to boast that you felt the love from everyone so that people, incase they hadn't noticed it was your birthday would then too diddy or if they hadn't seen you got 25 people up in your birthday ass and you're proud as punch about it, they would in tern now know... cause lets break it down for just a second, if the average keyboard key strike depth is 0.8 mm and we are rounding it up to 1mm for ease of explanation and the average diddy is 3 ta 40 characters long, 3 being the most caring HBD with this maths the average diddy is 21.5 mm of key striking, so about a $2 coins diameter of finger movement is exerted in the general well wish. Now, does that kind of input really show love of any manner? There is more physical and mental out put used in picking a booger and you want to put a message out there to everyone that less than picked a booger for you that you appreciate their love and it means a lot. Howz about next time its your birthday, if you have to write anything to the masses try something along the lines of "hey mother fuckers instead of picking your nose how about you pick me up a pair of those new nikes Yeezus realised so I've got something good to gloat about".

The invitation is dead

I grew up in a house where cash money monay was scarce. I'm stoked that it was scarce because I think it was instrumental in instilling some of my key values and characteristics. How ever, being so I was never the kid at school that had the birthday parties, between staples, rent and the occasional dagwood dog there just wasn't the bills stacked in our crib. Fortunately friend making was always a strong point so if there was a kid putting on a shin dig in my grade then I often made the cut(usually named Timmy, Kevin or Phillip, I don't know why kids with names like that always had cash cow parents that filled real life love and lessons with gifts and distractions). We all remember those parties, shit was unreal. Pinning tails on donkeys, smacking the absolute shit out of a animal paper mashe only to be rewarded with treats, hitting kids on the head and calling them ducks (and then later in life the RSPCA has the audacity to try charge me for trying to whale some treats out of an animal, you did this, parents!) The games, the foods, in some case's usually philips, the rich turd's case maybe even a jumping castle. Not only was it free but because I was from a family with less scrill I didn't even need to bring a present, then at the end of the whole sugar high experience mother fuckers would give you a bag of lollies to take home and further taunt my already tired mother with energy I couldn't understand or utilise in any other way than screaming and fighting my brother. This was all well and good but the pre cursor was the tits, it was the real rite of passage to primary school in the 90's. The Invitation. They were a thing of beauty, always themed whether it be race cars, beach, carnivals... the colours, the way the names, date and place were hand written in some cases even by the kid himself. When that folded piece of pastel pleasure hit your school desk you knew you were in the elite, this rich little fuck had everything any kid could want but more so he wanted you at his house to enjoy it all and he didnt care what it cost his parents you were going to have a good time and forever be in his debt, forever the funny kid that could be swooned with just some cake and a lolly filled animal. He had you and if you were like me you didn't give no fucks, the treats were to fine.

These days however.....

I get like 80 invites a day. Which if they were pastel pieces of paper and part of, at most 15 piece ensemble then I'd be stoked. But no, they are via facebook, there is usually 300-1000 other people invited.... The really shitty thing that boils my free cake loving blood is they offer nothing and want everything. Cash to enter, cash for drinks, heaps of cash for things that look like lollies. They put music no bible reading human could ever play party games too. Chance's are you'll drop the expensive drinks, regret the expensive lollies and not dance one step to the horrible loud music that is being chosen by someone who looks so aloof that if you were confident enough you could probably steal all their equipment before they even pretend to care.. (guys name is also probably Phillip) All this and at the end there is no doggy bag of treats, these parties usually end with some horrible female being directly rude about your imperfections or worse that girls boyfriend making imperfections to your skull.

I don't know. Those invites just really get me down, they've ruined something I held in such a high regard as a child. I fear that if the invites have been ruined what's next.... Your call internet.

Late Phrase.

I pen this weeks Friday Phrase with my donger door open. Right now in front of my room, out on the path there is 40 blokes gathered speaking work, wealth and football. If I closed my door I'd be regarded as a cunt and not in the good sense of the word. So I yell stats from the NRL site I'm toggling between so I've got an excuse to at least hang in my room. The door open though has the aircon colliding with the warm, dank, damp air of the top end this causes my room to be a focal point of mass condensation. I sit hear yelling NRL stats in my deepest cunt voice, growing bacterial fungals in my condensating* room  and the thing that keeps me calm is the satisfaction that while amidst all this blokeyness going on I've got Frank Ocean in my head phones, a gay, black man singing rnb to minimalist beats all of which are the enemy to the outside going ons. Anarchy in the donger village.

Any way back to the phrase.

Last week I flew back up to work. Everything about the trip was reminiscent of the last and the one before it. I took only carry on because baggage carousels give me anxiety, I go early so I can sit in qantas club as long as possible. For some reason I feel like I've finally made it when I sit in there, people don't know what I do or where I'm going and I hope their assumptions are that I'm a professional board sporter of some sort or a musician or something cool. Sometimes I get so involved with that though that I too assume that thats what I'm doing.. to you real life board sporters and musicians fuck you must feel good in airports knowing that you're not going to darwin to pour concrete yet somewhere tropical to stay in nice hotels and deny hot girls that want all in ya grill. Anyway on this flight I was sat next to this frail little old lady, she was somewhere between the ages of 90 and post-mortem, clothed in nun apparel and baring a pretty heavy accent that I'm calling was lithuanian and I'm not saying that because I'm familiar with said accent yet more so cause I ain't. So, this possbile passed, Lithuanian nun struggled with the new ipad screens qantas are running this resulting in 75% of my flight trying to decipher the lithglish questions and help fix the problems. Pretty standard stuff, I was more then happy to help and after the flight I didn't think about it once more.

Until... And this is where the friday phrase took place. This case though it's not what I heard (as bad as it was) but more so how I replied. Wednesday morning some 4 days after the flight a bloke that I work with in passing by stops me. We are both already sweating profusely and I don't know if he is but I sure know that my thoughts are on surviving the day with out developing bad gooch chafe the few steps I've already taken that day are making me worried (fire retardant clothing and dank heat man, shit is rough) Danny way, ol' mate goes to me, oh and I must make a point of this, as "boss", "champ", "big guy", "Brus"etc stops to engage an actual conversation I've already walked passed. See in big trade-men sites everyone you walk past you give them a quick stare use one of the mate based address's like "how ya goin big dawg?" but you don't actually ever stop to hear the answer and the other guys just asks the same question with a different bunch of words and you don't answer him either, you seriously spend most of your day passing other blokes trying to keep your acknowledgement/addressing's fresh and different, as I write this i realise how fucking weird that is haha. Sorry carried away again. Ol' mate goes to me "saw ya on that flight?/!" I reply "oh yeah, she's a fucken long one to still be in the same cuntree hey?/!", "yeah it is, lucky for you looked like you were getting INTO THAT OL' NUN"... And this is where the shameful reply came. Before I let this out I just want to let my mum, maybe some older family member ie aunts and such and also any girl I'm slowly developing a online presence with, you know liking a couple photos on ya insty then stepping up to a comment here or there clasping at any straw of humour to share a skerrick of common ground, something..anything that will warrant a facebook add, then from there conversation in chat where we both use google and dictionaries to make ourselves seem smatter and more worldly than our australian hickish selfs are then hey maybe that goes well maybe you're convinced I'm a decent enough guy and I'm convinced you're convinced so we get to phone messages maybe snap chat, things are going swimmingly you're thinking yeah this guy is a good egg. Well if your at that stage or are one of these people maybe don't read on or if you do, know that I said this out of adapting to my surroundings and not because these are thoughts or things I would say in any other environment. This is proof that you are a product of your enviroment. I replied "Yeah cunt, nuns are sluts"..... as soon as it left my mouth I knew I'd done wrong. I thought "wait a minute, isn't nun the antonym for slut?" but I was in darwin on a huge job site and ol' mate just says "yeah bro, they fucking love it" and we both carried off into the dank, damp gooch crucifying day that is my life.  #sorrymum  

Just quickly while you're already thinking I'm a douche. This only applies to males and possible lesbians with a thing for straight women. But how is it when you see a girl post something on facebook and you're thinking wait a minute i thought her last name was "......" and then it clicks that she has somewhere along the lines gotten married and you're first thought is oh shitty, there goes that. Well when you do think thoughts like that remember, god made us this way- conscious clear.

   "yeah bro they love it" 

Otto "live" Powers

At work, 12 hours a day, my surroundings don't change. Every day is a reminder of the day prior and a prediction of what tomorrow holds. The mundane brain kill I put myself through everyday is like a construction ground hog day, but unlike Phil Connors no matter how well I treat people this cycle continues. Out of work, back at camp, things aren't to much better. I get home go straight for dinner, come back to my room for a shower then into bed for 2 hrs of trawling Facebook and instagram thinking of funny ways to criticise people, mainly out of jealousy but also cause..... I'm jealous.

One of the funner times I've been having lately is on my bus ride home. Out those big bay windows the top end is in full flight. Australian bogan culture  is rich and crowned king of the land. On any given day it's not weird for me to look out the window at the lights and see a couple blokes having a sculling comp with tallies.... while driving. The natural gas industry has gone and given some of the worlds most stupid people a shit ton of money and they are smoking, drinking and impregnating what ever they can.

Our bus drivers change from trip to trip, somehow though lately I've been scoring the same dude. This guy is a modern day Otto with Kenny Powers dress sense. So yes, he is everything cool embodied in one single human being. For the last couple of trips I've pretty much just been impressed with his ability to play pretty bad ass 80/90's music consistently and at such a loud volume that most everyone on the bus hates him, but he gives no fuck to that, it's his ride and he'll bump what ever he wants. Today though, today he shone. It was like any other day, we were cruising along at a medium pace O.P. Had his black leather boots on, blacked out speed dealer sunnies on and although I'm to intimidated to check closely, what looks to be a pounamu necklace (the ones that are like green hook looking things that are sold in every place thats remotely New Zealandish) Anyway he was chillin' pumping the toons (his spelling not mine) and out of no where, as it does in the top end a massive storm rolled in. This shit was heavy, lads on the bus had their phones out filming just how little you could see ahead, I was in the front row just over O.Ps shoulder and i could not see a single white line, side of road or brake light ahead it was black out... Did he take his shades off to see better NO did he pull to the side of the road or even slow the pace a little NO O.T. reached for his ipod that was currently pumping alien ant farm and I kid you not he quickly clicked his way to "rain mix" playlist on the pod. For the following 10 minutes of black out death ride while everyone on the bus shit themselves and sent out final messages to loved ones, O.T. sang at the top of his voice the following 3 songs, with the first song being repeated twice while he safely and possibly unknowingly drove us to our destination. Live - Lighting Crashes, The Who - Love reign o'er me and The Doors - Riders on the storm. It was fucked up and I found misfortune and a deep sense of self disappointment in the fact that going about my life the way I am I will never amount to half the human O.T. is.

I know I missed a Friday Phrase but today at lunch I heard this conversation, not the best but still piss funny (be sure to read in your most occa accent and read "fucking" the way i spell it that will help get the accent)
"you been to that new maccas?"
"nup, you?"
''yeah"
"howzit?"
"fharrken fancy as fhuck"
"yeah?''
"yeah fharrken cafe and shit"
"fhuck that'll bring in the poofs"
"cunts"

Phrase Friday #2

Friday phrase this week comes at 3 in the morning, while some of us gather our nescafe blend 37 and others heads lay lifeless on the tables in front of them. At this time of the morning I'm still a good 4 hrs off properly waking up. The working day has just started and it's kicked of with a safety meeting, as always though safety among a bunch of ex/current ice addict divorcee red necks turns into a blame game and in the space of 5 minutes (03:05) there's a heated discussion about who has been stealing whose pies from the pie warmer. Lynn our cleaner (and all around nerdy pussy of the group) points his blame from behind the guard of our supervisor at Billy, the 8 foot 5 inch, biker looking concrete pump controller. If Billy is having a really good day and he's feeling mad happy vibes, he might grunt "fuck off" instead of throwing a apple at you if you try say hi to him. Billy's reply to the allegations and this fridays phrase... at 3 in the morning, straight faced "don't you eye ball me you twerp cleaning fucking faggot, I'll stab your face with a fork" no word of a lie, as Ghandi is my witness that was exactly what was said during a "safety" meeting at 3am monday morning.

So next time you're having a bad day, say a photo you thought was really good only got 15 likes or they put the mayo on your crunchy chicken bowl at the local sushi joint even though you clearly asked the 13 year old girl that works there and should be well on her way to being a professional at her job by now not to put the mayo on. When shit is going that bad, just remember you don't have a mundane job that makes stolen pies that you get given for free dont make you angry enough to want to stab some ones face with a fork (not the easiest utensil to sink through the skin) And think hey maybe I'm doing alright, I don't want to lodge this chop stick into that girls face, all i really want to do is find out why the powers that be keep making girls develop into large breasted porn star looking creatures at such young ages and make me question my moral fibre while im trying to stomach 3 litres of egg and rice vinger whipped together and dropped on my crispy chicken.

Friday Phrase #1

On the subject of partying with girls, pertaining to who has seen girls go the wildest. A subject that was segued quite simply from favourite type of porn... Yup.

The person that said it was just walking passed and heard "girls used to go nuts on passion pop" and he thought he would inject this:

"You haven't seen sluts go crazy till you see a girl smoke rock after you have secretly dipped it in liquid fantasy, that's when they really go wild... some of the best nights (plural) of my life have been thanks to the rockstasy..."

No shit.

This is the league of gentlemen I spend 4 of every 5 weeks with. Fucking bosses!

Bored lord

I'm bored. Constantly.

Back in this fly in fly out gig. Spending the very long 14 hours of work and travel a day thinking, external thoughts. In this industry/life style it's pretty simple to brain off/bank on. If I don't have these deep thoughts and imagine crazy things I feel my self getting dumber by the second. That's why I'm back on here, converting my boredom into pointless dribble and your boredom into criticism "have you seen that shit cody is writing on the internet, the dudes fucking lost the plot", "I heard he is doing a gynaecology degree by correspondence to make up for the lack of females where he is living", "yeah I heard that to, its defs the truth fo real", "che".   < that's a conversation some of you will be having soon enough and I know it's hard to believe but you will use terms like "defs", "fo" and "che" the language just hasn't hit yet but I been searching all the top blogs and they are using that shit fo show.

I'm going to make every friday "friday phrase day" and put up my favourite construction dirt bag call for the week, or if I'm on break try get a good hip saying that I hear all the kids out there be droppin'. For instance yesterday on the bus I heard a 54 year old twice divorcee say to a man of similar ruin "have you ever seen the movie, the secret". Personally, I think that's maybe the funniest opening to a conversation those 2 men could ever have.

Just a quick whistle wetter this time, I'll put something with more substance and point next time, untill that day comes, keep your ear to the grind stone.

In closing....  



This picture came up on google when I searched "best picture ever".. Googs, you're slippin' pal.

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't talk about the kardasians

Every 4 years, monthly-paid staff have to work an extra day – for NOTHING

Seriously, serious stuff isn't really my forte. I have a little belief that the difference between people that can laugh at rape jokes, people who understand that love is an adaptation, people who fist pump when the worst possible outcome happens because the story told will warrant the experience... and people who don't is media in all it's forms.

I was listening to two girls on the train today and I nearly shit my pants I was containing laughter/anger so hard. I tuned in part the way through and pressed record on my phone, the conversation went as follows: GIRL1 GIRL2

"I could not fucking believe him the whole time we were together he was sleeping with tracey, right under my fucking nose"

"No way"

"Oh fuck way. Do you know how many times we told each other we loved each other, we were fucking engaged on FB(she used the acronym)."

"you two were engaged?"

"no but we did it on there as like a little cutesy thing"

"oh yeah that is cute, did you hear avril is dating that nickle back guy?"

"Fuck I hate being a canadian. Sometimes I wish I was one of those african people in the tribes! At least they don't have to spend every day embarrassed of what their famous people do!"(hmmm yeah, right that's what's getting them through those food-less.....months when their kids just snorted gun powder and blew up the locs water well)

"Speaking of which I'm thinking of getting a sponsor kid, I've been having that much bad karma lately I don't know what to do?"

"Maybe like Angelina you'll score that Mr Right Pitt if you do that, are they expensive?" 

"I don't know, I haven't looked into it yet. (wait for it)...... I haven't had time ever since this new job started, it's absolutely got me fucked how people do these 40 hr weeks and have any spare time to do anything else!!!"

I feel that most of this absolute crap isn't something these girls thought up on their own. It's a honed personality from years and years of horrible reality T.V. and uncaring family members who wouldn't intervene and prevent them from going down the moosh for brains path.

When I was listening to this shit, as funny as it was, I was so fucking angry and was going to write 20 pages on it but just reading it get's me pissed off and that's not what I'm about so I promise the next post I do will be about the other night when I did acid, had sex in my van for a time measurable only in seconds and then had the love of my night spew all over the place a reddish hue of perfumes opposite more chunky cousin. :)

Peace and god bless, unless you don't believe in god in which case pull my finger........(fart) nailed it!.

Ain't no thang but a G thang.

Doing this thang agang. <<< that ain't no spellin mistake... that's what we call "tongue twister"

Chewing gum while peeling onions will keep you from crying.

It's been a long time between drinks. Not literally, drinking has become more an Australian trait of mine since I've left the country and felt the need to be stereotyped as some form of identification of self. No I'm talking of the phrase that pertains to revisiting something that has been left dormant for quite some time, in this case "Flock like salmon".

I've spent the last 10 months living from the bag and drifting around the North Americas. The only time this was not true was when I was stationed for a couple months in the B.C. interior. These times however where free of free time. Waking up at 10am and snowboarding till 4 then going to a hot tub for a couple hours to relax and warm the muscles left very little time for anything else and in this very littlest of 3 hrs left before sleep was reserved for herb and C.O.D. staples in the snow bum life.

Times have now changed and I'm back in the work force. After 9 months(also known as a "pregneye" or "pregus" depending on what hemisphere you're using the measure of time) of having not a skerrick of employment, the time has now come. Freedom has once again admitted defeat and a victor known as Free-doom has risen. In F-Ds post victory speech he told of nothing in this world being free. If 25yr old sunny coast kids want to continue to travel the monumental mountains of the North Americas then they would have to kiss the feet of his leader and God, a mythical creature by the name of Mulla, first heard of by the Lydians in 500BC. This creature took form in paper and precious metals and was said to cause people to feel the most intense levels of happiness, sadness, stress and greed (but in the most part the latter 3).

The above however is a little history lesson I will teach you when I know all things on wikipedia to be true (I'm sick of being caught out for being only wiki intelligent and not the other kind "actually") . So to the point at hand. I'm currently working 7 days a week replenishing the beast and am lucky enough to be doing so in the Vancouver summer. This is great for 2 reason, 1 Vancouver in the summer is like a perfect areola to nipple ratio, it's a thing of beauty that you hear of and see so often on websites but are unable to understand its until you're face to face with this most gorgeous of gods paintings. 2 Daylight starts at 6 in the morning and runs all the way through till around 9:30, thus meaning that after work you're not subjected to making dinner and going to bed yet being able to get out and taste the nip/areola nectar and be inspired to do.... stuff. Stuff like you never get time to in other homes - hang in parks, slowly walk through a city, lay on a beach and read a porno... 

This all leads me to my point. I now have a lot of stuff going on in my head other than snow, weed, call of duty and american girls and I plan to put the codec back to blogger. So check in once in a while. Maybe have a read, write me off, send me some reverse nudes.... of your cat... and no not your pussy... your actual cat, peeps don't dress their cats nearly as much as they do there dogs. It's animal racism and I'm fucking sick to death of it!!!   

Le day five

Friday 29th July

7:30am, "code. code. wake up darl". "mum?". "mate we have slept in, it's 730" "oh fuck!!!!! I'm up and will be ready in 5 out the front". I'm a terribly blank person when I'm late, and while me and mum hurry around gathering our things I fret endlessly about missing my plane. 

12pm, Melbourne domestic, Q-Club, pretend I've been flying in and out of the club since i was 13 like im beiber. Turns out I'm the only one that was raised on the smell of a oily rag and thinks there is some form of social prestige associated with the club. I realise this and take as much free food and drink as i can… as per.

4pm, After many flight delays I finally arrive in Sydney. While i wait for my buddy on a bench seat I notice myself smiling and realise i look like a christian, so i hood up. I'ma smilin because the buddy that's on his way to pick me up is my youth, in all its bus egging, beach party wristie, beer bongingness, the core and what might seem as acts of immaturity, they were stronger life lessons than any boot camp or summer school, things i hope my kids will some day experience. 

5pm, We spend a traffic clogged hr drive from the airport to his place in padington (or one of those other nice sydney places) is filled with hilarious reminiscent convo, the guy is so insightful and ererytime we hang it seems that we have both been watching,listening,reading……ing completely different stuff so there is plenty of content to converse…. Hold the phone what's this. Our conversation is abruptly interrupted by the passing of two horse mounted police….. Not so weird I hear you say, well this was two females and im sexist so what the fuck are women doing in such powerful jobs…….. not really. They were twin sisters, so identical that they had their ponytails slung over the same shoulder and the same blue bow in their hair was in the tail of the horses. Liam referenced it to being something out of a David Lynch movie which i said I will go catch up on, yet still as i sit here on my computer i haven't checked that reference…. ill do it later.

Night-3am, A lot happened, maybe even more than that that I don't remember. Details are scarce(ish) so I'll point form my memories.

- Went to some hip norfolk place saw the best side-boob I've ever seen, maybe seen it too long because the next time i went for a peak it was jacketed (note to self: learn to be a better creep) also ate some tacos that burnt my mouth so bad but everyone else seemed to be okay with (note to self: don't show so much emotion when your mouth is burning)

-Liam DJ'd at World bar, me and mark from his band had a sword fight in the toilets and got the door kicked in and nearly thrown out for trading drugs… the hole matter was resolved when a piss soaked toilet roll was evidence that I was far to much of a immature drunk to trade drugs.

-After been away from women for so long I was pointing out how hot all the ladies in the place were to the boys, I pointed a little to close to a girls face and she grabbed my finger and then, much to my surprise performed a solid minute of what I will call the best I've ever had "finger oral" on my pointing finger. I played it cool to the boys as if it was common play with me, but inside i was shitting myself and goggling on my iPhone for 'what to do next' advice. There was no reception so I lent in for a make out… apparently the kids don't do that anymore and she just gave me her number…. I got a confused nose bleed.

-I met up with a girl I knew from before… we briefly made out and I thought she must be from the old school. Then she took me by the hand outside, for what I thought was a possible one night stand. Yet when I asked where are we going her reply "to meet my boyfriend" punched my presumptive thought about the oldschool thing in the guts. 

-Woke up with no recollection of how I made 50 calls to a variety of female numbers with out getting a pick up from any of them. I also got into a text with a really cool nice girl in which i ended by typing back to her: "im going to bed" with: "In the words of Timberland what goes arkdfhg cone arujjj"…. I guess the point of the story is if you haven't yet given me your number and were considering it..Don't, if i get drunk no one is safe.

Day Four

Thursdy (not a spelling mistake, patriotism) 28th July

10am, Oh my, what is this. For the first time in 35 days I wake up later than 5. It feels amazing, if it wasn't for the greenish purple bruising covering 70-80% of my body i'd almost say it was the best sleep in I've ever had. God daughter has delivered by making pancakes…. Win. 

1pm, I've come to see my aunty Janice. It's so good to see her. It has been years,  and not just a couple. She is frail. My Mum, who has been through caring for people on their final days many times, explains it best " when people have cancer the body knows where it is heading and it has time to prepare for it. She has shrunk and taken back to baby form, curling up in to the position she was in when she first ever rested in the womb". Janice sees me and instantly smiles, telling me how good it is to see me and how I've become my own man. This is the most affect anyone has ever had on me. Her strength, while weighing all but nothing, is incredible. Still talking, still able to stand and most importantly still able to grasp me in a straight jacket of a hug. I can't remember the last time I cried for anything other than a movie. My entirety cries, my arms are weak and an overwhelming feeling of unknown surges throw me. I realise I'm a weak,pathetic person when I leave the room after Janice says to my Mum "what's happening, where am I going". My mum has done this stuff time and time again, once again she proves to be a much greater soul than I have, or ever will meet/met. As me and my god daughter walk to the car she(without tears) says to me " Poor Janny, she will be happier soon". Child enlightenment is a thing of beauty. I choke on my words for quite some time.

6pm, In Janices honour we have a beautiful meal, a red or two and a fire, which, I being the only male try to take over and get all bear grills on but fail and have to live the humiliation while my female cousins own me in a fire making off.  Good times, great stories, most importantly a rare delight of family bonding…… for everything else there's mastercard.

Check that scenery. Harrietville, beautiful!!!

Day Tre

Wednesday 27th July

6am, I'm awake. So when the alarm on my phone goes off, I thank It for being an hour later than it had been all of last month(even if routine didn't allow for a real sleep in, an unforced one is sometimes as good). Straight to the shower. I'm giddy, the snow is top priority with me. If I had the option of either scoring fresh tracks in japan all day or getting my cock in and around Miranda Kerrs many entries, I'm sorry but I'd have to pause for like 45 seconds before I realise that I could film the Miranda gig and black mail her and Orlando for enough coin to live in Japan for the rest of my happy days. So yeah I'd turn Miranda into pleasure mountain for the greater good. 

4pm, I spent too much time on 6am, so the day spent falling on my ass(cuts and bruises to prove) up at Hotham, on my own, is going to have to be condensed into poem. ( I was going to write "a few words" where I wrote "poem" so the whole poem thing has surprised me and I may be out of my depths here but I'll have a crack)

On my butt 

The proof of pain, a cut

Spending a day alone in the snow

LIke a party in the day time, not worthy of blow

The potential this place has is frustrating

The bruise close to my sphincter makes me think, constipating?

Oh also the bus driver that….. drove the bus(nnerrrr) took his job way to seriously. There was only me and an old couple on the bus and we were both sitting down the front, ears distance from his mouth. He knew this, we knew this, but he went and used that muffled microphone to point out the obvious outer window sights didn't he. 

Night pm, Have dinner with family that I haven't seen in along time. My god daughter is in grade 5 and is amazingly cute, she has the cool quirkiness of someone who will do crazy creative stuff when she is older, I'm jealous haha. When we get home she lets me take the bottom bunk and I offer the chance to talk boys and stuff. She reiterates that she thinks I'm lame and tells me I'm a pussy for wanting a night light. Sleep.

Don't be fooled, that's all ice ice baby.

Day 2

Tuesday 26th July

12am, I arrive back to my humble abode after an hour drive home from brissy airport with Joel. Some brothers don't get along, but we spend the entire time deep in convo, time flies in conversation. 

1am, Still wide awake, I check all the regular sites, talk to a philly in an attempt to line up some attention…. it's late, no avail. Sleep.

6am and a couple more hours, I'm straight out of bed like my body has been trained to be for the last month. Before I even realise I'm awake, I pack all my snow gear and am walking out the door to go check the waves….. Waves are nice but I don't have enough time to enjoy. Joel picks me up again this time in a massive moving truck, when he drops me off at the airport it looks like it has been hired just too carry my bags, some old dude gives me a weird look as I grab my stuff out of the back so I smack the son of a bitch upside the head. Bokononism.

10am, Girl at the desk for Jetstar is so cute, Her name is Kellie (marochydore airport, anyone know her?), I search her desk for a last name so I can cowardly add her on Facebook later and use a thesaurus to make her think I'm smart… I mean intelligent. I don't find it and spend 45 minutes in the departures lounge trying to think of something good to say to get a date with her….. I start watching a surfing edit with a moving song in it and I forget about it completely. 

12pm, Sydney domestic airport is Australia's most prestigious public cat walk. Virgin girls have me once again thinking of a real life way to talk to strange girls….. search for last names…. I come up with a good call but i'm in the shower and it's 20 minutes later….. ohhhh brother. 

3pm, I've landed in Albury, 7 airports in 28hrs. As I flew in I wondered if I could find that country setting where Lisa Mitchell sat on the swing and gave her little interviews for Idol from. If this was possible I then fathom if somehow that would be helpful in my everlasting conquest to one day marry her?. I get off the plane, mum is tear in eye, waiting. Mum is everything I like in myself, she is directly responsible for anything good I have ever thought,done,said,will…… 

3.15pm, Me and Mum are heavy convo for the next 2 hours, as always. It's always the deepest and intelligent conversation with the old cheese. She has the essence of it all, life experience a plenty. And a vocab worthy of Macquarie cats. I try to be as insightful, most of my stuff is "a brief history of philosophy" rehashed spew though. None the less these times are some of my most valued learnings.

7pm, After dinner with my cousin Leanne and Greg, which I might add is always enjoyable, those guys have done their fair share of living and they told me a story I'll use later as my own. Me and Mum head to my aunties house. Outside it is like -2 degrizzles, but wait what's this, heated flooring….. has anyone ever experienced this shit? EPIC. Lay all my cloths for the morning out and fall into a pleasant, well needed sleep. 

Adventure Part Uno (Italian for one. I can't help it I'm worldly)

I recently had a bit of an adventure for my 9 days off. I'm going to post a days details a day.....a day. Once they are all written I'll re-post it as a complete post.

Monday 25th july. DAY 1

5am, I wake up to the sounds of reverend Tyler Lopez, a half black half latino, blatino chistian precher. My South african room mate has the preachings on so loud that I wonder if there is a metaphor or simile that would describe how loud the TV is….. but it was too loud and I couldn't think.

6am, After a little breakfast at the mess hall I return to my room. Safa is still hard out listening to this preacher, regardless of the fact that he is openly racist, he seems genuinely interested in it. SSSSSIIIIIIIIRRRRRREEEEEEENNNNNN the fire alarm sounds and everybody staying in blocks D and E converge on the car park to be marked off. I'm in tight jeans and get 16 nice jean calls in total. A couple of Irish lads tell me "you loocky count" in regards to my flying out today and then I return to my room to finish packing.

8am, walking to catch the bus I run into my mate maggie the pirate, he is a magpie who only has one leg. I pay homage to him buy pledging to spend the next five minutes hoping around on one leg…. I lasted 15 seconds and the whole escapade had me respecting him even more than before.

10am, I'm on the plane. I've done my fair share of flying in the last 12 months, from this i have acquired a couple of DO'S for flying.

- When they say, for taking off and landing all electronic devices should be turned off don't turn your phone off at all just put it to flight mode, although you cant really do anything with a flight moded phone it gives you that rebellious feeling you got the first time you stole a lolly from a shop….. Wynona type shit. 

-Don't recline your chair straight away. This is a rookie error, wait till you want to sleep. Actually up until that point make yourself as uncomfortable as possible, believe me when you recline and get comfy, it will be a comfort previously only experienced in a sealy postra……

-Always go to the toilet while everyone lines up for the first boarding call. It will help in spending time in the line feeling like a douche for standing up and waiting in a spot where you can see the spot u were just comfortably sitting and you wont have to go through the torment of needing to piss in the 10 minutes from when the seatbelt sign comes on a turns off.

-This one isn't advice it's just something I do. Every plane meal i get i eat the biggest to the smallest thing on the plate(this includes the little milk thing and any other liquids) this way I use the packaging in a russian doll kind of way, stacking e'erything inside itself. The plus is it becomes very stable and you wont have rubish floating around. I did this today and wondered if this is where the human race got their plan of action towards what gets eaten when…. cause as it would be eating in this manner is pretty much spot on to the general rule of thumb…… main-desert-drink-----

11am, Touch down in perth. The plane is full with FIFO workers who fly at least 2 flights a month, yet for some reason some fucking douche packer stands up before the seatbelt sign has dimmed as if he is to important to wait… as always the attendant asks him to sit and wait for the light to go off.. he obliges and looks like a cock…. that momentarily pissed me off 

12pm, Slide back to my old pad in Como to pick up some things i had left there last time i moved out. While I waited for Jack and his snookypoo to go to her house to get a key to the house Jake rocked up and we talked shit as per…. he tried to steal my shoes than had me feeling pretty okay about going half and half with him.. shoes wise….. than it looked shit so he just drpped me back at the airport.

4pm, I'm sitting in qantas club waiting for my flight back to brisbane. I'm new to the club so i feel the need every few minutes to yell words like NASDAQ or BUY into my phone to fit in with the general suit clad army up in here.

5pm-11pm, I watch the sunset over a blanket of clouds out the window of the plane, I'm listening to M83, so the whole experience was that mush(thats a spelling mistake for much but i think it works better) more enjoyable. Post watching this sunset I started to read Cats Cradle By Kurt Vonnegut, 4 hours later I satisfyingly turned the final page, sore eyed, chuffed and inspired M83 still played and I looked t'ward the future like some form of sudo-philosopher.  That book is filled with quote gold……

 "Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before," Bokonon tells us. "He is full of murderous resentment of people who are ignorant without having come by their ignorance the hard way."

I'm a devote Bokononist now, which is, in the true sense of Bokonism a complete lie.

 My mining home.

The M83 sunset.

Junkies again

I've spent that last 3 days working all day with this dude called Dave. Now Dave is, what we call in the industry a ex/current junky. He shows all the signs of a junky, calls his girlfriend all day checking if she is cheating, which either ends up in a "FUCK YOU SLUT" or " LOVE YOU BABY…….MWAHHHH……OKAY LOVE YOU…..YEAH SEE YOU SOON……. KISSES……..MWAHHH……BYE…..YEAH YOU TOO SNOOKY", this trait is also prevalent in his day to day personality, he is either highly concerned with current issues, always sighting his un informed opinion with such passion it's almost believable or with really important issues a cloud look comes across his face and he just says"farrrrrrrrrrk eh?", his speech is so slurred i some times mistake it for someone farting, his teeth earnt him some cash a couple years back in a modelling gig for those warning pictures on cig packets, just so we are on the same page thats all just  junky things….. yet the reason why we are unsure wether he is still a junky or an ex is, there is regular drug testing at work and while the tests are pretty simple to cheat on….. so is tying your shoes yet Dave don't do the ol' shoe tie to well… Any way this is just character description to give perspective for the main part of this story….. Dave loves using idioms. On average he is smashing around 35-40 of 'em a day, but the problem is he never uses them in the right context. At first it was funny, like the way Will Farrel did it in Anchorman, when in roam!/?…. Now though it just cuts every never ending in my body. I have taken to writing them down whenever they drop from his dentures so that i can at least share them with some one in the hope that it will give laughter where i am currently feeling exasperation. Here is a couple…. there is many more but my eyes and ears are usually bleeding while he is droppin' them….

One of the guys at work is a real back stabber, but to your face he is super nice…..

Dave said in regards to him: Yeah that cunt is a blessing in disguise… 

Talking about how long the contract we were on was going to take…

Dave said: Rome took ages to build in a day…

We found a GPS point first go….

Dave said: X is the spot

He swore that the company hadn't paid him the right amount last week….(so junky right now)

Dave said: They're bitting the hand that feeds this time (dave is a labourers labourer) 

I was telling him that I had never been to Darwin….

Dave said: It's a small world?…..

His missooooo was super depressed….

Dave said: Yeah, her cloud definitely has found it's silver lining….

Our leading hand asked him to go grab some star pickets from the ute…..

Dave said: Oh what am I, playing devils advocate now too?…..

There is a million more and he rattles them off with such enthusiasm (you know junky enthusiasm) that you can't call him on them. 

Bit of a winge, I'm sorry to of taken you all along for the ride on that one it really is my problem to deal with….. but hey blood is thicker then water….. yeah right like a pig in mud....

Janice Ann Lance

This post is written with tears welling. I have just gotten off the phone with my aunty. She has told me she will be coming up too see me as soon as she can and we both agree we are sorry it has been so long since we last saw each other. The truth of the matter is, that after being given 2 weeks, 2 weeks ago and dropping down to 25kgs, the sickness that has overtaken her will most probably mean that phone call will be the last time we speak.

I reminisce of when my uncle Trevor (Jans Husband) passed, and how I was too young to really understand the impact the pair of them had on me. Trevor and Jan are a breed of people that are slowly becoming extinct. They are true blue in the most caring straight up sense of the term. There is no, and never was any bullshit, what needed to be said was said and what didn't wasn't. Their children and children's children are all direct proof of this, all good people.

I sit here gasping on what to type, every word seems to choke me up with the looming thought of death. I wonder how my tiny aunty can be strong enough, when in her current state to say things like "I'm not real good, but shit these things happen. Once it is all over, I'll be up too see you guys".

There is no ode that would do my aunty justice, yet I know her and Trevor were and are above things all pretentious and unimportant,  I admire that rare quality more then any other in humans. With my aunty still able to say "oh fuck what was it" while she is trying to remember something she had too tell me, surely all hope is not lost. Regardless of everything, I will treasure the impacting lessons that I've learnt off her, not from her teaching but simply from her doing.

Much love to you Janice Ann Lance

Slang

I was slanging some slang around with some slang slanging slangers today at work. The topic of the conversation was, in the true nature of men, cock length and breadth . Now this isn't a post about cock sizes, because while we're all being honest, if you own a quarter acre of land with a dog and a cherry tomato vine that hardly qualifies you to talk about farming. Any way the topic is this old dude, who is possibly the most annoying arrogant dude I've ever met, yet some how, he now and then comes up with these cracker calls that are way younger then his, let's say 60 years of age(I'm pretty sure he came up with "that's what she said"). So here we were slanging on about cocks and one of the guys told us the size of his cock, which made me question a lot of things, but this old dude goes "what?! from direct centre of balls, or are we talking base of neck"... he had around 7 different regions of the cock and balls all in acronym form and he was more then happy to go into depth description. Suffice it to say we we're pretty busy taking an hour out of the day to talk cock shop.

In the true nature of my posts here is something completely unrelated, I just watched a range rover advertisement while I was typing this and when I looked back down at the screen I was applying for a hundred grand loan on commbank.com.au. Also penguins are only found in the southern hemisphere.

A dude i work with never bends his knees

I dont really have a subject matter for this little post i just havent written anything over here for quite some time and i feel im neglecting my thoughts and only considering the corporate juggernaut that is eldospod. But here we go a couple of thoughts.... as the title mentioned this dude i work with doesnt bend his knees so he only bends at his hips and he is like 50 and wears tight  pants so everytime he like bends its like he is in stand up doggy stance its so awkward if u get caught behind him while its happening   he even does like a BEND and  SNAP thing that he has obviously learnt from legally blonde..... ive lost my train of thought i havent smelled the sent of a female in 2 weeks and with out being suss i like perfume smells like most like sunsets and just now i got a new room mate and he must of hugged his wife or what ever type of relation she is before he got on the plane cause he is smelling of j'adore he is 6 foot id say 100 kgs pasty white and red hair like an out of shape ronald mc and right now im wondering if he will let me hit that till four in da morning.... the song marijuana by kid cudi is tight dawgs..... i use the joke "no white at night" too much to people that dont get it and am constantly left laughing solo in a group of people that think im a racist



that took sixs seconds too type i know it will be hard to understand with out the full stops so to say sorry here's a picture of this playboy model i used to hook up with from time ta time

( . )( . )
  )     (
(   *   )  she has a slightly offset va ja ja...... not weird. unique

catch me over at http://eldospod.blogspot.com/

hey I am writing on a duet blog with my friend jake u can catch us at http://eldospod.blogspot.com/ but i will post here now and then with stuff a little to weird for that one :) < have smiley face's lost their integrity now that they are just a : and a ) u don have to colour them or buy the stickers

just chatting

I was having an intelligent conversation with a group of really smart people today about regrets and self esteem.. and by intelligent and group I mean meaningless and talking to myself in the shower because i get bored so quick in the shower but i love being in there.

So i started thinking about things that have pissed me off or i regret doing or just anything ball park negative. In no order these are some of the points that were raised and discussed :

> I'm not into the world ending next year, although im sure my peak passed me around age 15 i like to believe 2013 will be if not a peak year at least a rise in sales for what ever im selling.... and how fucked would it be if no one came to your funeral because they too are busy getting there entombment on.

>Last week some one referred to me in present tense as being knee high to a grass hopper short jokes are usually something i beat people too but this one blindsided me and i've been tippy toeing around ever since... cheers nan

>I regret not masturbating before big - medium decisions, rationality is thrown out the window when your lower half is controlling your thoughts.

>Sleep- is anyone getting on its good side, if so how? slash/ is insomnia indie?

>Imagine if wingeing was never invented and stoked was all you could be, how much better people would be..... "just got hit by a bus, .....at least i didnt die" type attitude or even "just died, ....at least i didnt have to go through the traumatic experience of getting hit by a bus"

>Typing a couple paragraphs about things your wingeing about, then contradicting yourself at the end of it.....

(something funny and irrelevant to whats written above) hahaha lol rofl headies sign(in that order)

what up...

its been a while but look whose back... back again.... cody's back tell a friend... preferably a female friend or if you don't have any female friends a good looking dude but not like that dude from twilight  I'm talking john candy good looking.
Enough with that ramble. When I was working in the mines I had oodles of time to think and the child of those thoughts was the first x amount of blogs I put up. Now that I am back in the real world having friendships and relations and hobbies and sinking mad piss like an absolute dog, I'm finding the doing a little mentally overwhelming, I don't think I ever realised that normal life is so full on, and mainly and namely dealing with other people around you, constantly making decisions based on the possible outcome(s) for everyone else and not just yourself, around every corner there is a quadruple entendre.

I personally know of myself to be a little selfish for I try to keep the making me happy and making others happy 50/50 or even 60/40 pending how much sleep was had that prior night. Of late though I have been noticing these people that can not.... not say no and there every move is in the request of others, firstly, hat off to them because it must be insanely hard to keep that up, but I as always over analyse the situation and wonder is the push over that can't say no actually a push over or just a nicer person then the whom calls push over, and polar to that is the person who only looks after themselves just an absolute carnt or just completely content in their doings?

I dont even know if this is worthy of the codec it's written on but i was bored and it's been far too long so if you don't like it and actually regret reading it you can forward a complaint to my pee hole which thanks to all the vodka cranberries i drank the other night is a UTI free zone

i have a bad case of bloggers block

I've been

I've been happy, I've been sad, I've been loved, I've been hated, I've been congratulated, I've been condemned, I've been laughed at, I've been laughed with, I've been inspired, I've been disgusted, I've been questioned, I've been answered, I've been jealous, I've been judged, I've been here, I've been there, I've been awake, I've been asleep, I've been .....∞ yet as the sun provides us with our measure of life, anything left out in the rays of time will fade.


just had that thought. 
Too deep?..... that's what all the girls say! BOOM!!

nah i forgot to put me hoodie on so i only got like 4 bucks left

there's a lot of stuff that people do that i don't understand and probably never will..... today this was highlighted when i asked my self after just witnessing it in the act why is it that the cliche derro feel the need to wear hoodies and long pants even in 30 degree heat... is their knowledge of economics limited to knowing that air-con cost fuck loads on the electricity at fault.. drilled so heavily into their heads that they just associate being comfortable tempered with expencive?

curve balls are fucked

I've had my fair share of massages (as a sort of thank you to my body for what ever i had put it through prior to needing a massage) and I usually pay the extra 5 dollars (or what ever it maybe depending on the country) for the oil massage. But on the night of january the 18th 2011 after a 7 hour travel mission of busses and trains from hakuba (maybe my most favourite places on earth) to narrita airport accommodation, id ordered a room service oil massage that would tarnish all understandings of massages being relaxing and semi erotic… I think partly to blame for my such high standards was hollywood and the way they depict asian hotel massages as always being gorgeous young women….. On the 18th in port hotel narrita though this was definitely not to be the case. 

The broucher said 6,890 yen for a 40 min oil massage and although this was in aud $10 more then the $80 i had paid for the room i didn't mind i was well sore from 2 weeks of heavy activity my neck was well out of place and i hadn't really slept well for a week… 

,

With the ring of the door i put on a little bon iver to set the calming relaxing vibe, i wanted no attempt at broken english conversation or worse silence. Answering the door i wondered if the lady that had been sent to allegedly massage my body back to a healthy  state was actually still alive or she had used her last gasp of strength to press the door bell. She was not bigger then 4 foot not younger then infinity and by no means heavier then the sockets she was wearing. I took it in my stride remembering mr miyagi defeating all those youthful brutes and being of similar size and age… with that thought i was actually excited that maybe she is like the master of massage possibly the inventor. OOOOOOHHHHH boy how wrong i was.. My experience with massaged has always been you get nude and put a towel around you but this women had no towel and was gesturing me in japanese to undress, feeling uncomfortable with her request i grabbed some boardies and went into the toilet to change. When i came out she has laid a massive towelish blanket across the bed and had the seediest ( i wish i documented this all with my web cam but my words are all i have) bottle of oil ive ever seen( im pretty sure what first looked like writing on the bottle actually turned out to be other peoples pubes). I laid on the bed face down and clenched my teeth, anticipating maybe the worst 40 mins of my life ahead (my forecasting of impending doom feel short of the horror to come)

The contents of the pub stricken bottle were being dripped across my back like wax from a candle and although not as hot as wax the burn was all the same….. Miyagi begun.. she started with my upper and lower back, now at first i was okay with it because despite the fact her hands resembled that of some one who had cut wood with a rough wooden handled axe for the last 6 months straight only stopping to dry any moister out of their hands with cement… yeah yeah despite this fact she was sooooo weak that I'd felt more of a massage on the peak hour train i'd ridden hours earlier…

This story got a hole lot worse there was parts where mrs miyagies nuckles brushed my nuts… another key memory was her pulling my arms and making my hand rub cross her tit… her quick succession karate chop massage thing was more of a dabbing of the skin with her wrists…. i wish i had not fallen asleep writing this cause i remember it being so bad and this is probably why 4 days later i cant remember all the details…… so i guess the lesson in this is if you have a bad or good experience and u want to tell people don't fall asleep mid story get that shit down or next thing you know your friends, family, loved ones, unloved ones, and human relation categories not yet known to me could be stepping into mrs miyagies $90s of hell…. 

Who I expected

Things didnt really work out like that though

what is it that makes us think we are any different

I read an article in a surfing magazine last time i was in indo, it was all about how over the last couple/few years the place had become over run with westernised shit (drunk dick heads out at night, sober dick heads crowding the surf, high dick heads writing articles about how good it was when they first went there.....).
As i read through i was agreeing remembering a lot less dicks there the first time i had travelled there and for a little bit i had this thought in my head that i was some sort of a pioneer and had more right to the juice that was being squeezed out of indonesia..... yup i'm a dick head.... i slapped myself and thought it's inevitable that enjoyable things beget more people wanting a sample. It posses a very ugly truth, (almost like realising your at your peak) appreciating that you are enjoying something new, because your knowledge and more so your advertisement of said enjoyment is ultimately the undoing of its allure.

I have been in japan for a week or so and my cheek bones are slowly breaking down to pulp from the battering they are coping every time i realise i'm thinking like a dick(and on the flip cause i'm smiling so hard most of the time). It is so hard not to notice their are a lot more english speaking people on the slopes and their is a lot more tracks through places that remained untracked for days last time I was here. I've even heard my self complain about it once or twice(something that i am very embarrassed by) Whom am i to complain or even judge before i came here there were other westerners getting even less crowds and before them only the Japanese were enjoying the fruits to themselves and before the lifts were here maybe only the few keen hikers had a taste.....but the fact remained the same as soon as they hiked that first run and told their friend it was over the unavoidable vortex of crowds on the slopes, crowds in the bars and crowds writing stupid blogs about the topic had been opened and with every person it sucks in it gets bigger and bigger.......... In closing when will it stop? will there be a point where all the fun things in the world are being done by to many people that their is no room for newbies.. and what will they do, if there isn't fun anymore will their be a new emotion invented or past time or if i keep thinking down this thought road will i end up at the what is death and why are we here questions..... yup.... fuck.... i need to go watch porn so i dont scare myself into for ever nothing thoughts peace out boy or girl scout depending on gender

a happy place for now?

change

I am constantly overwhelmed by "change"... Not knowing whether the right decision has been made... Always excited to find out? yet contradictory to that emotion there isn't a change that while feeling the excited anticipation of future I haven't also felt loss and sadness for the longing/wanting to keep the good things that you can take with you. When i think back over the zenith changes in my life i am always reminded of the fact that I took the "get it before it gets me" approach to change and was always the push behind the movement.... but still remains the wondering what if's... (i know i always use this "i'm sitting here" first person writing style but) I'm sitting in my donger its new years eve everyone i know is having fun and i know that should be the reason behind this sadness I'm feeling but its not, there has been a cyclone announced and tomorrow my work swing will be cut 4 days short as of evacuations are to happen, this will be my last night on the island for good(or at least a coupla years) and everything happening has left me getting my think on................................... and while the last 6 months i have felt solitude, loneliness, restriction, entrapment and all the other emotional restraints i have melodramatically winged about, i have also enjoyed  (for the first time ever) having spare moneys, maturing(some what), being respected for doing a solid and a new found self knowing(that comes hand in hand with spending most of your time with yourself).  I've spoke about the couple of dickheads out on this place i've met to my friends for the comedic value they have offered to get me through, what i haven't spoken of is all the good people i have met, it has been the first time i've worked with such a large group of people (something over 100) and i think i was the island bicycle being pasted from crew to crew allowing me to meet most of said work force. Considering we do little work out her there was plenty of time to get to know these people and it opened my mind too the fact, even though it was probably the most diverse group of peeps i've ever met, common ground was (post the small talk) they were all good solid people i got along with swimmingly, people that i now find myself while sooooo excited for the next frontier, really quite sad that i will most probably never see these people again. I have had chats with a lot of them that i would regard better then the talk i have with friends of years, in this comes my overwhelmed''''ment.... this last 6-9 months of my life have been very different to the 6 years that came before them and in my future plans i know i will be satisfied that i have made the right decision but god dam the feeling of change/loss/gain from its extremities of death to the smallest sadness u feel when u will no longer get taunted by some old bastard that years later you will realise taught you more then any teacher....Or the great sadness you feel for loosing a 60 year old kiwi friend who only talks about Jimi Hendirx

Barrow you're bringing me down
But i love you    
(thats the opposite to the smash hit "new york i love u but you're bring me down")

below by far the greatest human on the planet

god don't boss me around its christmas and I'm having a shitty day

The air-conditioning is at 18 degrees but outside its just hit 50, it's christmas day and as some form of self giving moment in order to not totally loose contact with the happiness that is christmas me and my work crew have opted for a little air-con truck talk time (this is common practise and really in the searing barron land of barrow is nearly as rewarding as a christmas present). I'm (oddly enough) in a bit of a daze while the other boys are talking about some undercover boss show(its been a long time since I have consciously watched tv) that I'm not at all familiar with but I over hear the gist of the show. While they are rumbling on, on comes "one of us" by Joan Osborne. At the time I pay very little attention to it but I do notice the whole scene sort of make a subconscious movie log in my mind(I'm pretty sure given the circumstances I'm thinking what the fuck am I doing here on christmas there are so many other people and other places I should be).  Later on in the shower (the place I go to think the most) the whole scene floods back at first I detest the thought, as anything work related should be left between the paid hours.. but then i realise my mind is trying to get to a different point its linking the song and tv show together......And by god don't i ponder this for quite some time. In the show I'm told the boss comes in disguised as a worker and finds all the bad things happening in his/her company and tries to rectify them. Then that theory cross pollenated with what if god was one of us just a undercover boss like one of us tinkered in my mind. I started thinking of all the stuff that if said god was legitimate (and not just a character in a book that has about as much evidential truth as frodo or jonathan livingston seagull i mean in the end the only real difference is one was written about a longer time ago) then what would he change would he really be as judgemental as his preachers and followers make him out to be and if so......... would anyone really get to keep there jobs?

also no funny post scrips this time sorry haven't really had all that many comedic inspirations of late what with all the red dust and dick head old dudes with broken lives telling me I'm an idiot for quitting such a high paying job that has left them with 3 divorcees taking everything they have ever worked for... na na cheers for the advice old alcoholic with bad bad sunglasses tan to the point where I took a photo of you the other day thinking I'd spotted the first 6 ft racoon



pps merry christmas check where i spent it