Absence Explained

All this Having A Life and Getting Out More is having an impact on my ability to blog properly on account of the fact I no longer have the required eight hours of company time a day to devote to The Cause.
Posting has been sporadic and second rate and I don't have the time to sit in front of the laptop like a slack jawed imbecile while I get my daily entertainment from you guys who have kept me sane through the dull times in and out of the office.

I have also been brutally forced to use my time online to do sensible, grown up things such as look for a car and search for the best insurance, this has traumatised me greatly and I can but apologise for this blatent misuse of the Information Superhighway.

Anyway, as soon as it rains I'm gonna take a break from all this relaxing that takes up so much time and find a WiFi Hotspot so I can get round everyones blogs and see what you've been up to. Because I do miss y'all.

Really.

Even IDV

Back Soon....

Brisbane: "Not That Exciting, Actually"

This is fucking cool though, Brisbane has a man made beach just outside the CBD, about a 10 minute walk from my mates flat where I'm staying.

I like this beach on account of the lack of potential death you'd get at a normal beach. No fear of sharks or jellyfish and no risk of someone harpooning my arse if I went for a swim, its just a nice place to chill and throw bricks at small children.
If we had a man made beach just outside of any major UK city it’d be riddled with hypodermics, dog shit and dead, frozen homeless people within weeks.

Other cool things about Brisbane are the kebabs. Stop retching, they’re really good, they are in fact Food You Would Be Comfortable Consuming Whilst Sober. Kebabs over here are served to you by attractive (beer goggles) young people in shops as opposed to fat, sweaty Greek men in vans. They’re neatly rolled and toasted as opposed to thrown into a polystyrene tray and handed to you slightly soggy and tasting faintly of urine.

Anyway, this concludes Fuckkit’s first attempt at a travel report and it took me three bloody days to think of that on account of the fact that Brisbane is… how can I put this politely… a bit dull actually.
Mindless drivel will be restored shortly.

In other news, I have fat armpits. What the fucks that all about?

Confession Time

Forgive me Bounds Of Good Taste for I have sinned, I just need to get this off my chest as the burden of shame is eating at my soul.

I have just downloaded legally purchased Geri Halliwell's Scream If You Wanna Go Faster^ as I have just heard it down the gym* and deemed it Quite Motivational Actually.


I cannot be held responsible if your ears start bleeding after listening to this.

^ Right click, Save Target As. Go on, I promise I won't tell anyone.

* Yes, I've flown 10000 miles from home and joined a gym. I've done nothing but eat kebabs and drink beer since I got here so I felt obliged to hand over distressing amounts of cash to Fitness First. I may also have signed over a portion of my soul and quite possibly one or more of my limbs. Fucking rip off merchants.

Too Much Disco

We've been here three nights now and I've spent approximately 60% of this time inebriated so apologies if you were expecting something exciting and coherent but I’m afraid my brain has melted.
However, I know a couple of you want photos of my adventures so here ya go:


Australians are so fucking hardcore.

Despite the perpetual double vision and slurring I've been pondering the following; There is a noticeable lack of beggars in Brisbane and a disproportionate amount of kebab shops.

Coincidence?

*wanders off all mysterious like*

Well Bugger Me Backwards

No, IDV. That's not an invitation.

I'm in Brisbane and so far haven't died and currently don't have Jet Lag which is good but my body from the waist down might well be plotting revenge against me.
I love flying to the point if I wasn't strapped to my seat I'd be sliding down the aisles and sitting down is certainly one of my favorite things to do but 20 hours on a plane is crippling and I swear my arse swelled along with my feet.

So, has anyone started a pool yet to see how long it takes me to get bitten/paralysed/killed?

Fucking A

I must have done something to offend the God of Cuntistry because its less than 12 hours before we fly and I'm still producing copious amounts of mucus, enough to worry about potential quarantining on landing.

Apart from the risk of actual death I fucking love flying. I get a buzz off hurtling through the air at 572mph in a pressurised steel tube but this flight will be the longest I’ve ever spent in a confined area apart from that time I went to see Lord Of The Rings.
Technically though that wasn’t 20 hours. It just felt like it.

My girlfriend however is a nervous flyer. She panics so much that all reason leaves with the only parachute causing everyone within earshot to question exactly what they were thinking in getting onto a contraption that is heavier than air in the first place (She scared me shitless when we arrived back from Prague but that's an audio blog for another time).
Of course an integeral part of flying is drinking. This is for Blood Thinning Medicinal Purposes only of course but I'm fairly sure that half a bottle of Jack Daniels would be sufficient to calm Emma down for a significant portion of the flight. If pouring it down her throat doesn't work I'll just belt her round the head with it.

Anyway, I'm off to work out how much excess baggage I'll be charged on my arse and to find enough sedative to keep Em settled for the first 12 hours at least.

Anyone got any spare Ketamine?

PS: Sorry I've been crap at getting round to everyones blogs. I suck and not in a good way but once I'm settled on the other side I promise I'll find a pub with Wi Fi access and I will sit in it with my laptop all day getting slowly drunk especially for you because that's how nice I am.

For Call Centre Monkeys Everywhere

I fully intended to post a short video of the destruction of a call centre telephone but the video went tits up and its a tough little fucker. Definately built for flinging out of windows, at walls and at customer service managers after a particularly difficult call.

It was partly closure and partly symbolic of the Customer Service Agents daily struggle with this source of misery, its the tool that The Customer likes to use to make your day as miserable as possible whilst under the mistaken belief that;
a) Their call is the most important thing to happen to you today.
b) The company will undoubtedly flounder without their custom and
c) That you give a flying fuck.

Tis Conduit Of Evil, if you will.

Anyway, this is the best I could do. Made me feel better anyway.



(This was after a flag stone was dropped on it repeatedly and it was severly beaten with a lump hammer. It just won't die, its fucking possessed I tell you).

Just Quickly

I'm ill and not "Where's All My Money Gone, Why Do I Smell Of Kebabs And What's This Traffic Cone Doing In My Bed" kind of ill.
More of a "If I Still Had A Job I'd Be Coughing Into The Air Conditioning Before Taking Full Advantage Of The Company Sick Pay Scheme" kind of ill which of course is infinately worse but at least I'm legally allowed to bitch about it without smug looks from people eating Fry Ups.

But aside from suffering from Death less than a week before a 20 hour flight all is well. Blood Thinning preparations have begun with an asprin a day taken with half a litre of vodka.
There are enough things in Australia that can kill you without adding Deep Vein Thrombosis to the list, I'm not taking any chances.

Nope, no chances at all.

*hic*