Dear Lord...
OK, I think I've probably had enough of Australia now, and am just about ready to come home. I think the heat has driven me insane. You see, the other night at about 3am I had a kebab. This, however, was not just any old kebab. Oh no, it was a delicious, tasty, juicy kebab with meat that was identifiably lamb. Of course, I know that this is an impossibility. I have therefore concluded that all the craziness of this continent, things like the toilet water swirling down the wrong way (this is actually a lie, and doesn't happen) have conspired to make me utterly fucking loopy. There is no other explanation. None.
I suppose that it could just be the air, mind. Since it transpires that Brisbane seems to be the marijuana capital of the universe. I think that tobacco smokers are actually in the minority in this part of the world, which is by no means a bad thing.
Apart from the hallucinations, kebabs and drugs, there's really not a lot going on in Brisbane. The most exciting thing about our hostel is that when you take a shower, it feels like you're being bathed in a nice, warm stream of pins. I suppose that this is an achievement of some kind. Otherwise, life is nice and warm and dull, which makes for excellent blog material. I'm not even annoyed at anything particularly, at the moment. Apart from Jamie Oliver's face. It's everywhere, even out here. I suppose it's an indictment of Australian culture that they can't even come up with their own celebrity chefs, and instead they have to steal ours. Not only do they steal our chefs, but they also manage to steal the most irritating bugger out of the lot of them. I mean, take Ainsley for God's sake, he's a nice enough guy and his cup-a-soups are almost edible. Still, if it means that Oliver's not on British tv all the time, it can only be a good thing, right?
I suppose that it could just be the air, mind. Since it transpires that Brisbane seems to be the marijuana capital of the universe. I think that tobacco smokers are actually in the minority in this part of the world, which is by no means a bad thing.
Apart from the hallucinations, kebabs and drugs, there's really not a lot going on in Brisbane. The most exciting thing about our hostel is that when you take a shower, it feels like you're being bathed in a nice, warm stream of pins. I suppose that this is an achievement of some kind. Otherwise, life is nice and warm and dull, which makes for excellent blog material. I'm not even annoyed at anything particularly, at the moment. Apart from Jamie Oliver's face. It's everywhere, even out here. I suppose it's an indictment of Australian culture that they can't even come up with their own celebrity chefs, and instead they have to steal ours. Not only do they steal our chefs, but they also manage to steal the most irritating bugger out of the lot of them. I mean, take Ainsley for God's sake, he's a nice enough guy and his cup-a-soups are almost edible. Still, if it means that Oliver's not on British tv all the time, it can only be a good thing, right?
posted by Sam at 7:22 PM
1 Comments:
I hate Oliver, I really, really do. Just a bit of news for Morgan - I made a cameo for the D's today and we lost to the B's 3-2. We were 2-0 up at half time! Still, it's back to the C's next weekend to play for them against the D's. Ropey.
I also have a question - why have you two gone half way around the world to do what you can do in the lower JCR at Trevs (i.e. get pissed and play pool)? Still, you'll have the memories...perhaps.
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