Week 1.8.............ish

They often say that you do learn something new every day. Well today i have learnt something new. I learnt that you can’t edit the name of your blog. See, i thought that the blog name which i called "oz. week 1" was the post name. Turns out that it is actually the blog name. So the blog is called "oz week 1". Fantastic. So they, whoever "they" are, were correct that you do learn something new, although I can't currently remember what i learnt yesterday, and whether i did indeed learn anything. Or whether i learnt something, but i already knew it, but forgot it, but then remembered i knew it when i heard it. If i did hear anything. It’s like when someone asks you a question, and you absolutely know the answer, but it’s at the tip of your tongue (another phrase used quite often) yet when you’re given the answer to the question, you remember the answer. Rambling.

Now i have lost my train of thought because there are 2 bush turkeys outside the apartment, squawking like mad. A bush turkey is like a normal turkey i think but they live in the bush. Quite an apt name. No messing about there. these bush turkeys are a nuisance, completely harmless but believe me they are the masters at depriving you of any peace and quiet. The noise is crazy. You would be forgiven for thinking that they are being molested given the noise they make. It’s actually worse than a regular turkey at an abattoir. They don’t shut up. If you want to see one, either come to Australia, or Google them. In fact, YouTube them so you can appreciate just how noisy they are. And they always turn up at the worst times. If you want to go to bed because you are shattered, or you want a nice relaxing shower, you can guarantee that a bush turkey will be there to fuck your shit up. I like to think of them as chav turkeys without the fubu clothing and the guns. Thinking about it, if i was a turkey walking around in this heat, i would probably be moaning my bag off as well.

We have seen some possums as well. We have fed the possums also. They are cute, proper thick and stupid, but still cute. I cant remember if they carry diseases, so Im not taking any chances, and avoiding kissing the possums. But you can get possums drunk on vodka soaked bananas. So i am led to believe. Apparently. 

On my last entry, i left the whole world waiting with baited breath, as i dropped the bombshell that a cyclone was heading straight towards us. I’m afraid that the cyclone was just like paranormal activity 3. The hype was there, the anxiety and tension was epic, yet it failed to deliver. At the last moment, it decided to turn west and headed away from us. Instead, we got the tiny little outside bit of the cyclone. This was basically torrential rain and mental winds. When i say torrential rain, i mean ludicrous rain. You have never seen rain like it. I’m talking about rain that floods everywhere in a half hour. You actually lose your flip flops if you go out into the rain. Quite often you will see flip flops floating away down the street. This explains why there are more flip flops in Australia than actual people. That’s a statistic i have just made up. But you do see flip flops everywhere. Petrol stations, shops, they even sell them in electrical stores. True story. So the rain was crazy, the wind literally was like gale force, sending plants and leaves everywhere. And it was noisy as hell, but not as loud as bush turkeys. In fact, they are in the garden now. Not even the sound of lil Wayne on my laptop can drown them out. I believe that prisons should play the sound of bush turkeys for an hour a day for inmates. I guarantee that this would solve crime issues. Threaten criminals with the sound of bush turkeys, and you would see potential murderers walking dogs and delivering papers instead of murdering people. I don’t even think they could murder a bush turkey, they are just that loud.

As we live about 642 yards away from a local sports bar, we are always there. its 4pm at the moment, and i swear to god, i have just had a phone call asking if i want to go to the sports bar now. There are a couple of things to raise at this stage. We are always there, at night, 4pm is not a normal time to go. However, at this time, they have topless barmaids. Actual boobs out. Full on. No bikinis, no bras, actual breasts, exposed. And they are good breasts as well. Not any old woman with a moustache. Young pretty girls with boobs out. Instead of going to see them, i am here, writing this. That is dedication. And i have Google as well, so every cloud and all that. Can you imagine popping down to the cherry tree, or china gardens, and ordering your food, and the waitress is topless? Actually, i have been to both the cherry tree and china gardens, and I’d prefer the service to remain as is. With clothes firmly on. Maybe wear more in fact. But nonetheless, it’s a clever selling technique. Get the old men down there, get the girls whop there boobs out, and watch the drinks flow. The old men think they have a chance of crossing that imaginary line where they go from just looking, to actually being able to touch. They drink more, to get more Dutch courage, in the hope that they can maybe just maybe get lucky, and the topless waitress will realise that she wants an old man in her life. However, we all know that this doesn’t happen. Because just as the men think that the smiles the girls emit are flirty signs, a fucking bush turkey pipes up, and the atmosphere is gone.

The sports bar has actually been our home for a few hours at night. We see the abbo's (aborigines) trying to get in, and are swiftly ejected, as they just cause aggro. We even watched a stoke city game there. Yes, that’s right. we come all this way to Australia, in a tropical climate, with loads of new exciting things to do, and we go to the bar to watch stoke city play. As they say, you can take the man away from (insert town here) but you can’t take the (insert town here) away from the man. (I have also played linkin park to death on the jukebox-it’s all about representing). 

I briefly touched on the subject of meat in my first post, and yet again i have to discuss it here. Because it is just amazing. Today is steak and blowjob day. In Oz, it needs to be called just steak day. The meat here is that good; it renders the blow jobs not necessary. That is why you see girls walking around with smiles. They are clever. They know that the right way to a man’s heart, is actually in aisle 1 at Coles where the meat is. Forget sex and boobs, it’s all about the fine cuts of steak, the cheap cuts of steak. You can feed a family of four on steak all week for the cost of a freddo bar. It’s that cheap. I bought a joint of steak for $10, and it cut into 13 individual steaks all 1 inch thick. And the chicken breasts are gorgeous. Nice big lumps of white meat, i had one the other day for tea, and gave half away. When do i give food away? I can eat until I’m sick, and then eat more. Not here. And i had more kangaroo, but this time i was more adventurous, and had it with garlic and herb rubbed all over it. And it was amaze balls. I feel sorry for anyone who has no sense of taste. I also feel sorry for vegetarians. Apparently cows and chickens and kangaroos take offence at vegetarians over here. They want to be eaten. I wonder what a bush turkey tastes like?

One thing i used to do quite a lot back at home, was to put some clothes in the washer, and then once the washer had started, i would find a stray sock hiding somewhere. This used to really annoy me. Australia has the answer. Little did i know, but over here they use top loading washing machines. I found out the other day, that during a cycle, you can open the lid of the washer, and put any stray items in. to me, this was pure genius. It still fascinates me now. It must know that you have forgotten something, because the moment you open the lid, it stops. So i have actually tried to trick the washer, and open the lid dead fast. But it doesn’t work. It always knows. I’m sure it is a living mechanism. It can’t just be wires and metal, it is alive. And it talks to you, when the washing is done, it tells you. It beeps at you. However, the fascinating technology has one drawback. Because it is so advanced, and it knows when you have not put all of your socks in, you expect it to be hugely complicated. So the first few times i used it, i was stuck as to where the detergent goes. Google wouldn't tell me. There is a plinth in the middle of the drum that sticks out, and has like a reservoir available, where we all thought the detergent goes. It doesn’t go there. You simply pour the powder onto your clothes. Why would we invent something as clever as a washing machine that knows when you haven’t put all your socks in, yet we treat it like a hobo, and just scatter the powder in with the clothes. There should be a magical compartment with led lights that plays a tune when it wants more powder. To summarise, if you’re going to invent something so clever, don’t give it a stupid Achilles heel in the form of no powder compartment. The bar has already been raised with the clever lid design, so this should be carried on into all aspects of the machine. And i still don’t understand why the tumble drier is on the wall upside down!?!

Me and a few mates went to the Casuarina shopping centre the other day. And it’s huge. I mean big. It’s like the potteries on steroids. An absurd amount of shops there. I was in heaven. Me and some mates walked around in awe at how big it is. And yet again, the ozzies have it spot on. At the potteries shopping centre, you catch a bus there, and then walk miles the shopping centre. Not here. The bus stops UNDER the shopping centre, and you walk 30 yards to the shops and suddenly you appear in the middle of the food court. The food court is heaven. But it smells better. They have a McDonalds here, and I am pleased to announce that the double quarter pounder is still available. And it’s absolutely inspiring. I ate it, and I am sure I had ideas about how to resolve many of the world’s issues whilst eating half a cow on bread. And the chips, they’re just totes amazing. Not like our chips at McDs, oh no. they just are better. In every way. Not too hot, not to salty, they have a crunch to them like fries should. And they have kfc, and multiple pizza outlets, and Chinese places. Talk about being clued up.

I bought a few items whilst we were there. I bought a man bag to carry my wallet and phone around with, because after all, I’m not wearing jeans I’m wearing shorts. With no pockets, so I was forced to buy one. For only $12. And it has compartments. So I can separate my items. This now means I can retrieve my wallet without having to look for it. Because I know where it will be as it has its own compartment. These guys think outside the box. There was a shop there as well that sold 5 pairs of French knickers for only $15. I worked it out to be only $3 for a pair. That’s good value considering Ann summers edible panties are like £5. And these ones were real ones so they can be washed in the clever washing machines.  I also bought a rainproof mac type thing. And it folds away into its own little carry case, which fits into my man bag. We stood there looking at these macs for literally 20 minutes. I couldn’t help it, I wanted it in black, but they had only XL and medium. XL was way too big, and medium was ok, but a bit tight around my muscular upper physique. So after much deliberation, I opted for the navy blue in large. I wasn’t happy with this as navy blue isn’t my colour. It reminds me of old things. As I was at the checkout paying for my $15 rainproof bargain, I also noticed it came with a removable hood. That was included for the $15. Excellent.

I also bought a little rubber wristband for $2. There were a few I could have had, and again it took some time deciding which one to have. There was a green and yellow one, which had a good slogan, something like “one life, live it your way” but the drawback was the colour scheme, as I so politely expressed in front of the checkout gay guy. “I don’t like green and yellow they are the worst colours”. I forgot that Australia is known for its green and yellow. In the end, I opted for a pink wristband, that reads “dream it, wish it, do it”. Later on that day, a family guy episode was on where Brian the dog writes a book with a similar name to my wristband. If ever I needed confirmation that I chose the right one, the talking dog gave it to me. I also bought a t-shirt, a stylish one, with a half-naked woman in black and white for only $7.50. It’s cheaper than the razzle mags.

I have my bank card as well now. A pink one! I could try and justify why I had a pink one, but if you’re reading this, chances are you know me, so an explanation isn’t really needed as you know I’m 3 sandwiches short of a pillowcase. I do however feel sorry for the lovely girl in the bank in parap who opened the letter up with the bank card in. Imagine seeing a tattooed stocky guy coming in asking for his bank card, and you open it up and his card is pink. And I mean pink. I don’t mean UK driving license pink either. I mean Polly in your pocket, Barbie doll pink. I can use my bank card to illuminate the apartment at night. And I take great pleasure in using it. For once, I go to checkouts rather than self-serve, purely to see the reaction of the staff.

My eyes hurt now, and I have some meat that needs to be eaten. We are all going to the races on Saturday for St Paddies, so I am sure there will be some stories to be told once that is over. So I am off now. Would you believe it?!

A fucking bush turkey mouthing off again!


EDIT-just figured out how to edit the name! 2 things learnt today! that both contradict each other....................

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