“Being apathetic is so cool. I’ll fuck anybody if they have money. I never have money and live in a shithole with my friends. My favourite drink is goon because its so cheap and gets me drunk. In my room is clothes on the floor, art I drew, a dim light, the smell of loathing and a old stained mattress. I would never live in an modern apartment, that’s so lame.”

Day 1.

AM (Brisbane)

Since I booked on impulse, I didn’t anticipate numerous factors into my flight date. I did try to think of anything important, but a few things slipped my mind, like a show I bought tickets to. I somehow assumed that my flight was at 9pm, I don’t know why. And thought, At least I could catch a few hours of this show which started in the afternoon.

On the day of the flight, I printed my flight ticket, My flight was at 6pm. No chance of catching the show. I sold the ticket and headed towards the airport

PM (Melbourne)

I asked my friend to pick me up, on and off during the week, She thought I wasn’t going to Melbourne, Such a jestful personality I have?

When I arrived, I texted her, she was at Kmart because she was bored. I too do the same when I’m bored.

As seems to be far too common, my iphone battery was in the redzone. I tell them my location and tell them about the battery, they say to recharge it in the bathroom. I proceed.

She came a few minutes (hours) later with her brother. She was too scared to navigate to the city so she only took me halfway which I had no issue which, However, we did get lost on the way. The GPS on my iphone didn’t even work because we were so outback. Or my Iphone is shit. Which is equally as possible.

Later we arrive at the destination and I call a cab. I arrived around midnight on a Saturday so a cab would be difficult, as I discovered after 2 hours of calling and being put on hold. Hoorah for a big mobile bill.

I called at the local shopping center and after pretty much discussing everything about our lives, my friend said to call another cab to the house she used to live in which was down the street, since a cab would be more visible. While talking in front of her old house like some stalker, her old housemate pulls into the driveway. She gets out after he stares at her for about 5 minutes. Her brother and I consider getting out to be polite but the acceptable threshold of 5 minutes past and we decided it would be far to awkward. Anyway, after getting to know everything about my friends brother and waiting a few more minutes (hours) my cab finally arrives.

During this journey through several old, rapey towns and waiting for cabs, my friends who arrived in Melbourne far earlier than me since they decided to join my trip 2 months after I booked the tickets, were texting me enquiring about my ETA.

They were at some bar near the place we were staying. I place my bags in the room and continue to drink what seemed like endless amounts of alcohol which would not stay a unique experience.

What would seem like a prime time to explore the nightlife was ended when we decided to go for a short walk, where one of my friends, lets call him ‘the nose’ decides to go to bed early. I end up eating at some late night food court attached to the Crown Casino with my other friend, lets refer him as ‘the nerdy friend’. After eating at said food court at 2am, we continue our late night walk, and explore the city before deciding to head to bed since his brother was taking us to the Great Ocean Road next morning.

Day 2

We get up the earliest in our trip. Around 7am. We have breakfast at some place close by, where we discover our nerdy friend’s so called impeccable palette, where he is willing to sacrifice pretty much anything for the perfect meal, and will continue to complain endlessly if it doesn’t meet his criteria. I should also note, this so called foodie, doesn’t like mushrooms, or any green vegetables, doesn’t like chocolate even though I witnessed him eating chocolate various times, or eating ice cream. He had a big breakfast, which is typically; eggs, bacon, tomato, mushrooms, sausage, hashbrown, toast. He commented on the stale-ness of the bread, and said the eggs were shit. Shrug. His brother arrived. Or some guy who was chatting him up. It happened to be the first option as he sat at our table and introduced himself to us.

He looked nothing like our friend. But his mannerisms were exactly the same. He tells us about how he’s in the army. He has the typical masculine look. He looks at his brother’s toasts and comments on the stale-ness. Amazing. It runs in the family.

The trip was quite long. We took a few stops, one for a snack, one for lunch, one for the 12 apostles.

At the first stop, we walk around the town, it has a nice rustic beachside feel to it. And more importantly, There’s a fenced area with a fucking trampoline floor. Hey guys, ever had the urge to bounce or walk on the ground trampoline as flooring? Well I’ve fucking seen one, and It wasn’t even in an acid fueled dream. It had a bunch on kids jumping in it. Urgh, I continue to walk by, but with disappointment on my face and slight anger towards those random children that benefited from the endless fun on the trampoline area. The brothers get a milkshake and our friend’s brother goes to his brother “Hey is your milkshake also freakishly good?”. This becomes a reoccurring joke

Me and my friend call asleep during most of the car trip to the second stop. Such a shame since the scenery was so great. We decide to have lunch and walk along the shop fronts. My friend’s brother’s palette kicks into action as he glances at the plates of the diners, and the menu and continues walking. We do this twice. He comments on getting fishing rods and catching fish for fish and chips. I was so tired and hungry, all i heard was “hey guys, fish and chips?” I apparently answered enthusiastically and said, “yeah! sounds great” They laugh, and explain the last 10 seconds. We settle on some fish and chip place. The brothers complain about everything, and say the fish is probably the best thing out of the whole meal. Saying everything tastes old, or like rubber. Yeah guys, cool. Unless you’re eating an endangered fish, handcaught by bear and cooked by a Michelin star winning chef using the finest of ingredients and served on a gold plate, it probably tastes shit, we get it.

We head towards our next stop revitalized with sub par food. During the whole journey which lasted probably just under 2 hours, we played, Fuck, Marry Kill. It was mind blowing how we didn’t just play a couple of rounds and laugh it off and sleep, or talk about something else. Even as we got out of the car, our friends brother who was quiet the whole time, offered a selection. I was actually quite good, Julia Gillard, Anna Bligh, Mel from the Morning show. My friend offered the hottest girls we knew or from high school, I made them choose between an asian vice principal, the ugliest girl at school and our nerdy friend.

Saw some rocks, was ok

We headed back. Melbourne traffic made us miss our exit, and forced us to exit the car at a set of traffic lights. I felt bad that we just ran out of the car of someone we spent the whole day with.

I head to another friend’s hotel after eating at Taco Bill. He came for the weekend to see Jean Grae. I get to place hours later, with ice and sambuca.

After a few drinks and chattin’ we catch a cab to the gig with his girlfriend. Percee P was freestlying when we get there and I meet some other friends that came down for the gig. Percee P made me sad on the inside, Just not sure what he contributed to the show. Jean Grae, aka my gangster wife came on with a veil and did her show. It was amazing, before seeing her live, her music and her in general did nothing for me. Amazing what a live show can do. Pharoah Monch came on. Besides ‘SImon Says’ it was pretty weak. After the gig Percee P was trying to sell his CDs, talking to ‘fans’ and shouting out his myspace. Ahh success. The afterparty was supposed to be next door. We decide to head later, it was dead anyway, though I think they were in the backroom. I join my friend and his girl for shisha at some kebab store. It was probably the most pointless thing ever, probably why I don’t smoke. I bought a beer for my friend and put 20 straws in it as a joke, it foamed up, incredible. We catch a cab back to the city, I join my friends in the room. They’re both sleeping. I put a chair on their chest which startles him, I take a photo.

I ask my friends if they want Ice Cream, They look at me like I’ve just taken crack, and murmur “alright…”. I head downstairs and get three mint drumsticks. Mint may have been chosen for a particular reason. We eat this at 3am. It is a glorious time. Later I go to the bathroom and the byproduct is totally green. I rush to the room to tell my friend. He looks at me and goes back to bed. I go on a walk with my nerdy friend

Day 3

We get up at what would now be our normal waking time, 1pm. Breakfast at Irish Pub, Shrug, Guinness beer, meh, pretty French waitress

In the middle of our conversation our nerdy friend tries his hardest to tell a joke. I use the word joke in the loosest sense. My friend and I are casually talking when our other friend pretty much whispers the following, while looking down and seeming like he was having an internal struggle with himself the whole time thinking ‘STOP TALKING, nah break out of your shell continue the joke NO DON’T’, The ‘joke’ went like this:

“I should er… um… email Mark Zuck.. Zuckerberg or whatever or message him, to tell him to um… change his relationship status to in a erm.. relationship to Donny Sin or something”. I look at this the whole time in awe. Not one time did he look at us while delivering the worst joke in the world. He was looking down, rubbing his neck and glanced to the side a couple of times. I would rather smash a glass bottle against my head, pick up the pieces of glass and swallow them than listen to another one of his jokes.

After lunch we continue walking around, get lost, Dinner at Chinese place at midnight, go to rock climb, ‘the nose’ doesn’t want to because he’s a fucking pussy, it is closed, consider strip club for friends birthday, oh yeah it was friends birthday, early night instead

We borrow a pack of cards from the service desk. The guy working behind the counter is over unenthuasiastic. He doesn’t care about anything. He out ‘Daria’s me. I ask if all the cards are there, he says he doesn’t care and to take the cards. We’re suppose to leave something as deposit but he says just to return them. Right.

We end up going to the rooftop and play cards. There’s a bunch of ladyboys gossiping and a british guy listening to his iPod. After about 15 minutes of watching us, he asks if we want to play a game of poker. We get out all the coins we have on us. My friends have no idea how to play so he goes through a crash course to teach them. Eventually I bankrupt my friends and it’s just me and the British guy playing. He’s the typical shit talker. One of the ladyboys asks if we can teach him to play. The British guy doesn’t say anything, I can tell he doesn’t want to. The ladyboy keeps persisting and we persuade him not to play. Apperantly he lost 10,000 the other night at the casino after drinking too much. All those sexual encounters on the street for payment and he loses it all, amazing. Eventually the British guy leaves when he realises he breaks even and leaves. I consider living in Melbourne and becoming a gambler or a street artist, specialising in chalk drawings. I could live off water and old fruit. Then at night time I could play drums or dance, maybe be a tour guide or a professor at my own college. My mind wanders.

Day 4

Go shopping, friend wants my advice and says he wants to be stylish like me, he’s only human, I feel flattered, Give him a selection of clothes which he all loves. Maybe I should be a personal stylist.

We head back to our room, I lose my iPhone temporarily, my nerdy friend, in a poor attempt for a joke says, “you should get a iPhone so you never lose it, since it’s always in your eye”. I cringe so hard. There’s a trivia night at the place we’re staying. I suggest we do it, since the last time I did a trivia night worked out so well (Sarcasm). There’s 2 people, we leave.

We go to the casino. I play a game of ‘spin the wheel’, I believe that’s the official name for it. I lose half my bet, I just bet the rest of the chips again, I lose it all. Total time=30 seconds.

So upstairs to the casino club, have one of the drunkest moments of my life.

There’s some live 70/80′s band playing, and apparently several work parties on that night too. I talk to a few girls, pretty over it though, but since our nerdy friend is actually having a good time for once, I pretend to have a good time and whatnot. This guy from Perth wants me to wingman him, we meet some girls from Brisbane, what a small world, but decide to head somewhere else, I bail on my friends, they seem to be having a good time anyway, they met some kids from New Zealand: hot girl with curly hair, a lesbian, the fattest person i’ve ever seen, and her apparent doormat husband. The fat one was talking and flirting with my friend, my friend tends to attract fat people into his life like magnets.

We get a recommendation to a club in the city, cab it over, it’s raining so the city’s pretty quiet. We talk to the bouncer for a bit about differences in our states, where is good, etc. I remember at one point the guy from perth says “In perth instead of stopping street fights, police fucking rape girls in alleys”, the bouncer goes “Yeah heard about that, messed up man”. The guy from Perth says “but I mean what would you rather do, stop fights with huge drunk fucks or have a gangbang” “… I’m not into gangbangs” Incredible.

We head back to the Casino, meet my friends again, A girl I bought a shot for is so drunk she falls every 3 minutes, I dance with my friends for a bit and sit down. My nerdy friend runs up for some fucking reasons and sits next to me. I say to him “don’t let me stop you from having a good time man, seriously, you were having a good time before I came, go and have fun”. He says no. For fucks sake. I decide to dance to get him up again, all he does is walk over to a pillar, cross him arms and look at the dancefloor like a murderer. Great. The New Zealand kids leave, we say bye to each other and we end up leaving soon afterwards anyway.

Day 5

We try and convince our big nosed friend to rock climb, apparently aside from spiders, it’s his biggest fear. Obviously his balls aren’t proportionate to his nose size. Obviously we insult him for the next 3 hours of rock-climbing.

We head to a Korean Restaurant afterward. It had a review by a big newspaper stuck on the front window, along with the other 5 Korean restaurants right next it to. At this one however they actually cooked the food in front of you, instead of giving you slabs of meat, a hotplate and walking away.

PM

We thought we’d try our luck again at the casino again, but at the club opposite to the place we went to the other night. The girl wearin a promotional t-shirt standing in front of the enterance asks where I’m going tonight, I ask for a recommendation, before I could even finish my sentence she recommends the R&B club she’s promoting. What a promo jorge.

We head in, they scan our ID’s. I notice the autodetect program is glitchy, It recognises and stores my name as Boug Slm.

I don’t want to spent too much on drinks, half of the money I’ve spent on the trip so far has probably gone to drinks. We take rounds in shouting each other Bacardi and cokes and pretty much smash them down as fast as possible.

All of a sudden my big nosed friend has a shocked expression on his face. He notices a girl that looks exactly like his sister. This is the greatest moment ever. I make it my duty to get a photo of her. I go through numerous strategies, waiting til she goes and gets a drink and talk to her, stealthily take a photo near her while she’s dancing, etc etc. She never gets a drink so I go with the later option. My friend leaves because he feels uncomfortable. What a pussy.

I manage to get a photo and send it to him. He messages me back and we meet up. He can’t stand R&B, and to be honest as much as I sometimes like R&B, I think the term, ‘good R&B club’ doesn’t exist.

After a break from the club, we head back up. In a moment of hilarity, my friends sister’s doppelganger just happens to walk by as we walk back in and checks him out briefly. I laugh so hard.

I try to get our nerdy friend to talk to a girl, I confer to my other friend and see who is suitable. Obviously we find noone. My friend goes for a drink, I meet eyes with this girl and we smile. I think, why not. I go up to her and say “Hey, could you talk to my friend?”. She laughs. “Is this some joke?” she replies. “Haha, No he’s really shy, he rarely goes out, it was his birthday, come on, it won’t hurt”. She agrees. I hi-5 my other friend while they shake hands. Their whole conversation lasted as long as their introduction. How embarrassing. I end up talking to her for the next 15 minutes anyway, Turns out she’s a air hostess that works for the emirates and that she’s staying nearby for 2 days. I get her number, She looks so shocked, “My number?!, yes its …”, exchange pleasantries and leave.

While walking out and saving the number I realised I didn’t even get her name. I essentially picked up an air hostess without getting her name. Incredibad.

We went back to the place we were staying and my big nosed friend and I sat in the bathroom just talking about life for the next 3 hours, proceeded to go for a walk, and finally went to bed. These long deep and meaningful talks would occur on a nightly basis from then on.

Day 6

AM: Memory blank

PM: Sexpo. Was pretty underwhelming, more of a place you’d take your gf/bf/lover/fuck buddy/wife/husband/etc, though the amateur strip show was totally tits. Girls with tattoos (and low self esteem) know how to move.

Left prematurely (er..) and went back to the room briefly. We had some drinks and headed to the Billboard after a few recommendations. The bouncer asked if we knew what was going on tonight. I checked before that night, and it was some toolies & schoolies night, and I heard something about some Triple J presenter’s birthday. For some stupid reason, I said no, and they said it was a private function and to come back later. A few days later I found out that John Safran was there and rapping. FML.

Was considering a rooftop bar again but decided just for a chilled night. Got a few recommendations for the Carlton Club, it was a pretty cool place. The nose and I went in first since our other friend was so hungry that if he drank more without eating he’d throw up. We order a jug, have a good time and get a message from our friend (who after telling him about our plans for going out, possibly to a rooftop bar, says he’s ready and walks out with the same cheap, old and dirty polo shirt and jeans he was wearing while sleeping 5 minutes prior) that reads: “Can’t get in. Members only!!!”. I laugh so hard for about 17 minutes. When we got in, the bouncer asked how many of us there were. I said two, and he let the nose and I in, while rejecting the people behind us for being ‘non members’.

I ask a couple of people if you can even be a membership in this club. They say no. More laughter. Our friend in the meantime is messaging us, saying he might just go home, since we have to get up early the next day. Guilt. This is the emotion we should be feeling.

We made a wager earlier that night, if he can’t speak to a girl tonight he has to shout entry to a strip bar. I feel that it’s his right for being so shit, that he should at least be punished, so I say that we bought a few jugs for him and we’d head out right after finishing them. Lie Lie Lie. We only ordered one and we were halfway through. He messages us 5 minutes later asking how much longer we’d be. I say we’re nearly done but the nose is in the toilet and that we’d RUN out as soon as he’s back. Of course in reality, he’s sitting right next to be and asking if he should order more drinks. I laugh, as tempting as this sounds my morals take over me. We later would come to decide that the best course of action would have been to let him just go home.

We eventually head out and call him. He said he’d be there soon. For fucks sake. He eventually comes, in his nerdy form, poor posture and weird psychopathic smile. We tell him there’s no such thing as members, he goes on some rant we don’t listen to. I hail a cab and we ask the cab driver to take us to kitten. He of course is Indian and the conversation goes something like this “Oh you guys want a special time eh?” “yeah maybe, what’s it like?” “It’s a brothel” “What? Someone was saying it’s a strip bar” “yes, the lower level is a strip bar” “oh right, yeah take us there” “So you guys want some pussy huh? This isn’t no shit strip bar, they give you the full girlfriend experience and let you touch, unlike those other shit clubs” “uh…” “wouldn’t your girlfriends be angry?” “my girlfriend knows, she doesn’t mind” “you lucky man”. The remainder of the trip is pretty much him going on about which other places to head, essentially giving us a sex tour. So why does India have such a large population again?

I really really need to go to the bathroom, I consider going behind a warehouse, a tree, a car, but decide not to be potentially arrested, since I already paid $600 in fines a few days earlier. Our nerdy friend was supposed to pay since he was being a fuckhead, but as a typical fuckhead he didn’t pay, and the nose had to pay, since I only had a card. We head in and I rush for the bathroom. Once again my friends closely follow me and wait for me outside the bathroom. Seriously guys, don’t be such pussies, I said I’d be right back or that I’d message you guys.

It’s quite packed, a mixture of men from various ages, and a few dykes. All the girls are quite attractive. We head upstairs (2nd level, which isn’t the brothel yet), my friend who thinks it’s a brothel gives me a look. The nerdy friend asks us for the ATM. How the fuck should we know, we tell him to ask the bartenders. He says no. For fucks sake. They’re not strippers, they’re just bartenders. He walks away and goes to look for it himself. I regret bringing him, such a pussy, always bringing down the mood.

He comes back about 20 minutes later and like clockwork some British stripper comes along and tries to chat us up. The private dances at this place starts at $20 and the girls go all out, let you touch, make out with you, etc. She asks if we want a dance, We throw our friend into the metaphorical traffic and she takes his hand and he follows. This is mind blowing. A 20 something year old virgin, lives with parents, works in IT, typical anti-social, always complaining, possible asexual, hates talking about sex, etc etc is agreeing to this. When we mentioned taking him to a strip bar on his birthday using code he seemed angry, and refused the whole notion of a strip dance. Even at the sexpo, he refused a strip dance. Saying someone is going to die. Funny how things can change in minutes.

The room for the private dance has a large glass panel that allows full viewing. We observe our friend with his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly and looking straight ahead. He seems so shocked/scared/confused/angry. As soon as he sits down, he hands over $50. Hmm. A few minutes in, I say to my friend “if he randomly snaps and hits her, I will run and let him deal with it by himself”. Luckily this doesn’t happen, but after a few minutes, much shorter than he other dances, she starts to put on her panties. All of the guys waited til their dancer put on all of her clothes and walked out with her. Our friend instantly got up and power walked out as soon as she picked up her underwear. She didn’t even get one leg into her panties before he got up.

He comes up to us and said he had a good time. Yeah, totally looked like it. She didn’t kiss him. I don’t blame her.

I don’t think i’ve seen our friend brush his teeth once during the whole trip, He doesn’t like gum, and he still smells when he comes out of the shower. I bet when he gets in he pops up an umbrella, sets a timer for 15 minutes, then walks out and goes on about how good the shower was. Whenever he walk into the room and he’s there first, we can smell him in the hallway. I remember my friend saying “There’s yellow bits in his teeth” “I believe that call it plaque?” “I think its corn” “We didn’t have corn the whole week” “…”. I joked with my friend saying we could probably sell a cologne that noone would buy that smells exactly like him, all you would need is 3 ingredients, vinegar, urine, and chocolate. I said he probably washes his clothes in a bleach made from urine and washes himself in a vinegar based scrub imported from Ireland.

She asks us for a dance, we deny.

We stay for a while. My friend asks me that he feels like going. I ask where, he shrugs, I say to him “Dude I’m cool with leaving, but at least have a plan or somewhere you want to go, I don’t want to head somewhere and have Asexual Albert get denied and spend the whole night looking for places that he can’t get into.” He stays silent. Either they wanted to stay longer or they had no leadership. After an amusing show where they dress up some guy and put on a show for about 30 mintes and another approach by this hilarious girl that totally dominated my friend (girls with power <3), I text my friend one word. “Carlton?” . My other friend looks over and sees the message. I could have easily distracted him so he didn’t see it, but I didn’t bother. We both head out and get dropped off in the city.

We talk about what we’re going to do. I say I still want to do something and convince my friend to head out. “Last night in Melbourne, Let’s just do it!”. I was hoping the other one would decide to stay in but he follows us. I try to reference that we won’t be able to get in many places, No idea where we’re going, and other things to try and get my friend to decide himself to head home. It didn’t work.

We head to this one place, after settling. I tell them I’m going for a glass of water at the bar and that I’d be back soon, as usual they follow me. Hmm. It’s 3am, the DJ is playing ‘Rock Lobster’, ‘Rock around the clock’, etc amongst some other genres, and the dancefloor is packed, in this obscure club in the middle of the city. This would never happen in our hometown. Our nerdy friend is just standing there, not moving. My friend says to him “man, loosen up or go home”, he says bye and leaves. I go after him and decide, “fuck him”. We hang out for about another hour and get something to eat.

This girl comes up to be and says my scarf is beautiful. I think I was wearing it on my head, I talk to her for a bit and then walk away. I eat with my friend and talk about our shit friend and life. We consider not going back into the room til check out since he might kill us or something. My DSLR is in the room, its worth over $2000. Hmmm, fuck. We slowly walk to the place we’re staying and watch ‘rage’ at 5am. I say that we should at least sleep for 3 hours since it’s better than nothing. My friend goes “nah man, if you sleep you feel more tired”. I ask him if he’s ever done a all nighter before, he says no. I like how he creates theories out of nothing. I’ve had several all nighters and the feeling the next day is like death. After a while we give up and head to the room. Our friend asks us how our night was. I look at my camera. It’s not broken, thank fuck. We end up sleeping and my friend is snoring so loudly that I consider putting in earplugs.

Day 7 (Last day in Melbourne)

We get up at 8am. All I want to do is get back to bed. We should have let our friend go home, enjoy our night, get to bed early. We check out and put our bags in storage, what to do for a whole day?

Never more in my life have I wanted to sleep on the spot. I look into every alleyway, “this one seems dry and less drug-esque, I could nap behind that bin for at least 3 hours and not get stabbed”. It was raining the night before and the park benches would have been saturated. There was however a giant fake Christmas tree in the park, I wondered if there was a secret enterance to get inside it and nap for a few hours. This thought process went on for another half an hour.

There happened to be elderly ladies in the city centre with hat’s with the letter ‘I’ on it. I presumed they were the city information desks in human form. I asked them for anywhere to sleep, realized how odd what I said started, stopped midsentence and asked if there were any ‘cinema theatres’ nearby. I should have really slept more. She laughed and asked if I had a big night and proceed to talk more. I thought about ways I could kill myself so I could stop listening to her talk and sleep at the same time. Finally she gives us the address of the cinema, we thank her for giving us vital information on our quest to illegally sleep in public.

We eventually arrive at the cinemas and I say to my friend to buy a ticket to whatever, since we’d be sleeping anyway. He buys a ticket to Harry Potter. I consider suicide once again. If by any chance I wake up from my nap and catch a scene of Harry Potter, I would throw myself into traffic. I don’t know why my friend bought tickets to it, he said he’d be watching it again with his family in a few days. His family must be into self torture.

We head in, and I prepare to nap. There’s a bunch of shitty kids talking about stupid shit behind us. The urge to punch them in the mouth increases everytime they segue into a topic that amazingly is more stupid than the one before. 15 minutes later a staff from the cinema comes in and tells us the projector broke down and that they will refund us. The sleeping gods just don’t want me to sleep.

I decide to see ‘due date’, which is 30 minutes later

Sleep through the first few advertisements and trailers, end up watching the whole film, nearly sleep at the end.

We have something to eat. Enter something worthwhile. After lunch we decide what to do. I wanted a haircut, my friend wants one to, our nerdy friend shaves his hair himself since he was 9 or something. He goes on about us wasting our money, something something. I stop listening and nearly get hit by a car. I secretly wish I did, or it hit my friend. We get a haircut, the girl flirts with us, end up pretty much leaving for the airport straight afterwards.

The last thing we did in Melbourne was get a haircut. How eventful.

Can’t remember much else between then and my arrival back in shit-town aka Brisbane. I think the following happened:
Bus ride to airport (a cab driver gave me his card when he heard I needed to go to the airport and quoted me $100, pass), metal detector went off on me (I had a coin in my pocket, urgh), saw a bunch of young girls come in (schoolies probably, typical set up of mainly hot girls and a fat one), eyes nearly burst on descent, went home and watched dvds til 4am, looked out the window, it was bright and I heard birds, Fuck.

Sunday

I wake up at some ridiculous time, I should be in the city in a couple of hours for a show and the work Christmas party. Look at my phone and a couple of messages. Urgh. I manage to get some housework done and head towards the city.

The whole journey I look out the window and think “Back in this shithole, urgh”.

I get a message from my friend, apparently his mother ran into our nerdy friend’s mother, who seemed REALLY excited he was out of the house and had friends. How she was mistaken. She was probably having sex the whole time he was out of the house anyway, she has like 7 children if not more and is quite old. Fantastic visual right there…

Walk by one of the managers at my work while in the city, exchange a few words and I tell him I’ll be there later in the night. I head to my Brazilian friend at the down under bar. I joke with her saying it’s the dirtiest place in the world and that if you go there, you’ll probably be raped or fingered in the corner.

It was some Brazilian party, So many incredible Brazilian girls <3. They were having some dance competition and they were all cheering for the fat pale girl. I must have missed the meeting. It was literally like a strip show where the clothes stayed on. Most of the Brazilians had this constant sleepy look to them, but one of the dancers was overenergetic. My theory is, either she’s from Portugal or half Brazilian.

The Fatty won by a landslide and won an iPod. She’ll probably trade it for a burger later anyway.

I head upstairs for the show I came for, they were still in opening sets. I get something to eat at the bar and they hand me a meal that was just sitting there. Hmmm. After catching up with my friend I head other to the Christmas party and say to everyone I’d be back in time for the headliner.

The Christmas party was well underway. Everyone greeted me and I catch up with everyone. Apparently basic spirits got removed from the tab within 30 minutes. Hmmm. We pose for a group photo, which was taken by phones and digital cameras, I opt to take photos with my DSLR. I capture some dirty moments.

About a quarter of the girls get so drunk they pretty much get kicked out.

I got in the car and headed home, thought, what a great week… then randomly a thought came to my head, Fuck, Kill, Marry, hmmm

My two options were the E72 or the Iphone,
The Iphone for the apps, bigger screen and because it was cheaper (though it’s the older model). The only thing bad about the E72 is how the internet browsing is lame.

Choice: Iphone

So after a few days of using the Iphone, all I can say is the following:

My old phone lasted me a day or so on a good day, usually (always) less, The Iphone lasts about a day. So really, the only requirement I wanted for in a new phone, wasn’t even met.

Here’s an analogy, think of the Iphone and the E72 as women in bed. The iphone pulls out all this crazy and weird shit, most of it is unnessecary, but entertaining while it lasts. The E72 gives you a great time, not something you’d put on your personal achievements, but it’s above average. She lasts for hours and hours.

But wait, after a while Ms Iphone stops. She wants you to pay her to continue.

What the fuck, Ms Iphone is a whore.

All this time you were disillusioned by all her tricks and now she wants you to pay her for more.

Ms E72 however is still being plowed like a field and loving it. You later end up marrying her having children etc etc.

Point being made is, in the time that you had to pay that whore iphone for more usage, you were still having a great time with Ms E72, who doesn’t require you to pay her all the time, only the occassion lunch.

What’s the point in having a great time if your constantly having to pay, when you can find a nice phone to settle down with who isn’t a gold digging whore.

I don’t even use the apps for the iphone that much anymore, they were entertaining for the first few hours, I guess in that sense its great for customisation, but not very useful if you want to plant your iphone in someones bag to track them via gps, but it only lasts for 5 minutes and charges you trillions in data usage.

I’m thinking of jailbreaking for pirated apps that do better things than make a noise when you press a button, but it seems like too much effort.

That is something you will only hear if you put a gun in my mouth and threatened to shoot a wad (If you’re smart enough, the part about wad would make it seem like the gun is in fact a penis, wordplay) in my mouth If I didn’t confess my illegitimate love for the beat.

I will outline my (not first, but last) experience at the beat:

The night didn’t start at the beat, it started at various bars in the valley on a Thursday night some weeks ago, being a Thursday it was naturally dead. Skip various details and we’re heading to the strip club. For all 7 of us its our first time (2 bi sexual females were in this posse) We (I) get rejected at the first place because of my (2 years expired) ID, we head to this wonderful clean venue called Tony’s Niteclub (spelling Night with an ‘e’ should have been out first warning.

So the drunk owner looks at us and asks us how many there are, I reply 7, I doesn’t believe me, 30 seconds of counting later he says “Alright, 7, its $10 each but i’ll let you guys in for $40″ Haggling to get into a strip club, rad. I gave $20 and the told the others to figure it among themselves since I didn’t give a fuck. They didn’t want to pay. Cheap fucks. My friend paid the rest eventually and we went in.

So we walk downstairs, I feels like we’re going to get stabbed and mugged at any point. There were loads of (can not enter race), even at the entrance. The bar tenders were extremely (understatement) overweight and were very unappealing in the face region. I became Instantly sober.

We sit near the back since, the two girls with us say something about going to the front. 2 of the guys with us have never been to the valley before.

A few minutes of being bored, this fat unenthusiastic chick gets on the pole. She starts doing her thing. I’ve never been so turned off. But wait, she takes off her bra, instant boner killer. I can’t remember what happened next but I think the announcer said to yell her name if they wanted a private show or her to dance for longer. This didn’t happen

She later walked off naked and angry. Hilarious, though how will she buy her oatmeal and wheatbix now, How?

There was a hot blonde, but she was attending to an old guy. God dammit old man.

The next chick that got on stage looked like someone from her school. We assumed she used an alias. Sneaky. This one went all out, but noone wanted a show from her, repeat of the last show pretty much, but this girl actually went up to others and asked if they wanted a show, she later came to our table jammed her titties with her hand and said “hey you guys tipping tonight?”. We left soon afterwards.

So one of the chicks said “so another strip bar or the beat?”

10 minutes later we’re in the beat.

So once again skipping various details, the midnight entertainment comes on. This comes in the form of a cross dresser lip syncing to Madonna, Britney Spears or some song about being a strong woman or such. The 2 guys that have never been to the valley feel awkward.

That was nothing compared to what made us leave.

So as we’re commenting on the cross dresser, we catch in our line of sight (since they were 2 meters in front of us) a male and female couple in their late 40′s giving each other handjobs. Zip down, penis out, full jerk motion.

Yeah, No.

So recently I’ve been taking my bell (think hotel service bell) around with me in public. It pretty much instantly attracts attention (mostly confused, amused and positive) and starts conversations. It’s like that time I wore a party hat in public and interesting people talked to me randomly and I got free ice-cream.

I’ve recently been looking up various instruments that I can also add to my arsenal for personal use. So far i’ve bought an airhorn, and considering a whistle (sold by a non profit charity, also the design is pretty rad). I bought a friend a old school bell town criers used to use. Shit, that would have been awesome, oh well.

Instrument-wise, i’ve been quite harsh on my selection of possible instruments to use in my current instrument addiction phase. I’m considering get a trumpet (mainly to make fun of Timmy Trumpet), mini piano, loudspeaker, a cowbell and an accordion (i’d rather not spend over $100 for a joke).

So far i’ve rejected the following ideas:
tambourine (I’m not a hippie)
Bagpipes (This would just be annoying and an inconvenience to carry and learn to play, not that it requires any skill to play or anything…)
Claves (I’m not a monk)
Kazoo (Yeah.. No)
Maracas (I actually own a pair, though it is very ‘boy from oz’)
Bongos (you can only create like 5 beats on a congo and they all sound average)

Segue
Yesterday I went to the Nas concert with Q*bert and Supernatural. I prepared for Supernatural by trying to find random objects that would throw him off guard. Fruit or vegetables… meh, meat… hmm possibility, powdered soup mix… hmmm very random, No Salt (alternative low sodium salt substitute).. Bingo. The chick at the counter fucked up the sale and put the item through as bird food, nicely done, you can’t even type a few numbers on a register and realize that ‘No salt’ isn’t bird food. Enjoy your failed life. Technically since the price (and Item) was wrongly scanned I should have got the item for free, meh. I took $100 cash out, told her she fucked up the scan and she ignored me, nice, I saw it as an atm fee and left.

Went to a friends place, watched them make pizza, got several messages from another group of friends to hurry up and come to their place, left, ran to the concert, they still weren’t there, ran into several more friends, they finally came, Q-bert came on, Supernatural came on and this:
He freestyled and rapped for a while, Cool, But as he was about to finish, He told everyone to dig into their pockets and that he would freestyle about anything he grabs. He sees my ‘no salt’ and confetti and says “this guy came prepared”. Q*bert drops a beat and Supernat grabs by items. He freestyled an awesome verse about confetti that I can’t remember at all and then swung the box and confetti went everywhere. The crowd went wild. The he started to freestyle about my ‘No Salt’. Amazingly he freestyled a really witty verse about “no sodium for this guy” or something and threw it back to me. Crowd went wild.

He moved on and did a few more awesome verses, then I remembered I had my bell in my pocket. He grabbed it and said “…I never stop rocking til I hit that bell”
*ding*. Crowd went wild. I asked the security guy to give my bell back and he was being a capital dick and wouldn’t return it. I looked through my phone and found a photo I took of it a while back and showed it to him, he reluctantly gave it back.

Nas came on next, He was pretty awesome.
(I’m assuming that was the shortest review for a headline act ever)

Actually:
There was this woman right? and throughout Nas, she kept extending her arm and yelled Nas. This would seem normal right? but in her fingers was a friendship bracelet. I’m …pretty sure Nas has been offered just about everything, from sex, drugs, drinks, etc, But this woman thinks that Nas will go down and get this looped yarn from her. Ridiculous.

Met Sampology and Charlie Hustle after the show and they found my items amusing and took a photo, then I got a picture with Supernatural after the show, holding onto my no salt, confetti and bell.

The kids I were with decided to go to the valley, I had shorts on, but reluctantly went, on the way I threw confetti and made a trail of ‘no salt’ and even gave it a taste. ‘No salt’, No thanks. I’d take high sodium content salt anyday.

They wanted to go to Alhumbra, the security guard wouldn’t let me in, I was tired anyway but thought I might as well try to talk my way in just for the hell of it. I said the guy in front of me had shorts on, the guard goes “oh shit” and tells him that he can’t come it. I say “ooh… shit. I didn’t mean it..”, the guy had an European accent and was confused and upset that we was getting kicked out. I said to the bouncer that it was he’s last day in Australia and that he has cancer. I don’t think he heard me becuase he still wouldn’t let him in. Later the door chick let both of us in. I let her touch my bell-end.

Inside was pretty boring to be honest. I left everyone as they went to a different club. Apperantly they went to Gloria Jeans after I left, how gangster, Cafe after a Hip Hop show…

On the way home I met some people I knew that went to the concert.

The end.

I went out after parklife last year and regret it from massive lack of energy, and obviously I didn’t learn anything last time. Standing and listening to music for 13 hours in not what the body was built for.

Here is what happened post Parklife:
Ate a burger, Apperantly was not on the guestlist for the afterparty, talked my way in for free, Claude Von Stroke touched my Bell-end, gave him a fist bump, saw him mix smirnoff with redbull and water, A-trak was alright, seemed out of it and was on his phone a fair bit, Beni drank smirnoff straight from the bottle, what a gangster. Every 30 minutes people would yell his name and Beni would be pissed since he was still DJing. A trak found my bell amusing but didn’t ring it. I shook his hand and gave him a fist bump. My hands are worth so much now I should get them insured.

Here is a recap of what happened yesterday:

3pm: Met up with a friend, was late
5pm: Met another group of friends
7pm: get a call from another friend, says he has work off and wants to hang out, I agree, even though I didn’t want to go out, It was a good opportunity to catch up.
9pm: eventually get home after meeting more friends and waiting for the wonderful Brisbane public transport system, which can go eat a dick or 5
9:30pm: Friend shows me his new car, then we start drinking what can only be described as homebrew. 2 bottles of it. Apperantly I was Vodka + mysterious Blue fluid. I’m sure the vodka was made in a basement without approval of the house owner or landlord and the mysterious blue fluid was methylated spirits. What a delicious and NOT disgustingly horrible cocktail.
10pm: watch Dave Chappelle’s Block Party in the backgroud while catching up. We soon finish the two bottles. I wished I’d bought some decent alcohol. Next time. We walk to Cactus Jacks, which is a local Mexican themed bar and restaurant, and yes, It is kinda shit. They think it would be rad to do Chartreuse Shots. Obviously they haven’t tried Campari.

We head out to my favourite place in the world. Gilhooleys. I can not stress how much I love this local bar. It really is my spiritual home, Once I walk in, I truly understand why I love living in Logan and wonder why I only go there about once a year, usually by force. In case it wasn’t evident by now, I was being quite sarcastic.

Rather than rattle off its many, if not endless flaws, I’ll just talk about what happened:

Friend walks in, My ID which is 2 years Expired apparently is not sufficient enough. I feel somewhat relieved and walk away. I spot some people from high school and talk to them while leaning on the barrier that separates the bar from the rest of Logan. It felt odd talking to people behind a barrier, I felt like a pedophile talking to children over a fence. A member of security tells me to either get in or fuck off. I can’t remember if he said that, but it’s safe to assume he did. I sat in the smokers area outside, and another member of security approaches and said something about needing to get in. I show him me ID, and he lets me in. Fuck.

My friend talks about pills and minds if he takes one (which would later be two), I tell him to go for it. He thanked me and looked around suspiciously for about 5 seconds and then took it. The concept of security cameras obviously didn’t concern us.

I get a free drink, it was extremely feminine, but I reluctantly accepted. As I was walking around, I saw some girls in nurse outfits, apparently there was a theme, This one girl with a fringe grabbed my ass and started talking to me, I smiled and continued walking. She was cute for a girl from Logan, But she was from Logan. As we walk out to head to another favourite of mine, Fitzys, I run into another girl high school. She is pretty fucking rad and we briefly caught up, mentioned her Canadian trip and told me to update my blog.

Eventually we end up in Fitzys, apparently an Australian rapper was performing. It was about midnight when we arrived, It was dead. He probably finished. A gig with supports that finishes before midnight, must have been some gig. We get let in for free, networking <3.

My friend talks to the security and barstaff, and later get abc shots. Fantastic. The procedure was to take the shot then suck the rest with a straw. I hate this bitch for making me do this. We did two. Doing shots (horrible shots) in Logan. I could have been glassed, or raped.

We go into the smoking area and he asks someone for a smoke, probably his fifth of the night. He said he gave up last Friday, and since he's drinking it didn't matter. What a great theory to go by. I gave up beating children, but as long as I drink it makes it perfectly fine. He should publish a book on it, I'm sure Dr. Phil would pay for the costs involved, and later Oprah can endorse it. Amazing. Simply Amazing.

I get introduce myself to the group, we talk about music, and one of the guys hands me his business cards and says we should talk further on facebook and if im down at the gold coast he'd sort things out. Not sure what that implied but I took the card and said I'd put him on guestlists for the valley and such if he ever decides to go that route. He asks if I have one. Goal: get a business card within the next 6 months.

One of the guys challenges us to a game of pool. My friend and I accept, and sure enough within about 5 minutes I sink the 8 ball. Put me on the olympic team already. Sidenote: Billiards/Snooker/Pool isn't an Olympic sport, but Curling is. What a great world we live in.

We continue for another two games. On the side my friend is chatting to this girl. I watch as within seconds she pushes him down and grinds on his face. Oh Fitzys where have you been all my life.

We soon leave, My friend asks his bartender friend how she's going home, her boyfriend is picking her up, he didn't want to walk for 5 minutes, what a lazy fuck.

Outside my friend is chatting to Grindface (don't worry her nickname will change) and her friend who looked alot like a girl I went to high school with. Both girls talk to my friend for ages while I read a month old copy of Scene magazine nearby. Like I said, Logan girls, not my thing (they were actually from Beenleigh, which is worse I guess). They tell me to come over and we start chatting. They all want another drink, lockout no dice, so we start talking on the steps again. The girl my friend is trying to get says she likes me because I'm Korea. Um, Alright. I shout out at the girl that looks like that girl from high school, she says her name is Shawna or something, I continue calling her Rachael.

Some guy comes out of the bar and calls me triangle head, I'm confused and ignore it, the girl my friend is trying to get tells him to fuck off. She talks to some randoms and the girl that my friend is trying to get, sits between my legs. We comment on her tattoo, she replies with something like "you guys are going to stop laughing and shut the fuck up once I tell you" She tells a touching story and the mood goes down. My friend tells her a story about his dad, and looks at me and goes "Isn't that right, Don?". What a fuckface. I have no idea if its true or not, but I reply with "Yeah, I think I remember your dad telling me at your last farewell party". She think he's bullshitting hardcore and gets all hyped up and wants to go home. She yells out for her friend and get in a cab. My friend manages to talk to her and gets in the cab with them. I'm fucking glad and wait for them to leave so I can run home without being stabbed. Unfortunately what really happened was they left the cab door open and told me to hurry up. Fucking hell. I tell them that I have to go to parklife the next day and can't. They're pretty insistent. Even the randoms that just left Fitzys are encouraging me. Peer pressure sucks.

The girl in front says "just take me to Beenleigh, and the guys in the back whereever". I live like 2 minutes away from fitzys, what the fuck, also this implied they were crashing at mine, since my friend was staying over. Great. I whisper to my friend that he's a dick. He quite loudly replies something about bitches, them paying for the cab and pussy. I just cringe, laugh and pretend he didn't say anything.

The girl gets off and says bye to us, The girl in the back gets all randomly emotional and tells us that she's drunk and tells my friend not to contact her and apologizes, hands us $30 and leaves. We tell the cab driver to go back where we were. He does a U-turn and I tell him to honk. No honk. We pretty much instantly talk about how relieved I am, how fucked up that was, etc.

The cab driver joins in the conversation and mentions how he was upset that we didn't get the pussy. Indian taxi drivers are hilarious. He said pussy so many times that we thought he may have been a pimp. The Total fare was 32, but he was cool with 30. I asked what his name was, Abraham. Cool guy. Ask soon as we get out, my friend says "Arj was a cool guy". My friend really wants to check out Fitzys again, what a dick. 'Arj' drives into the carpark, we laugh and I give him the card of the guy from the Gold Coast, and said he he wanted cheap Jewelery to ring this guy.

We go to the pokies room inside fitzies, the guy who called me triangle head shouts out at me. He goes "yeah you have the triangle on when playing pool", I reply with "oh yeah. So made much money tonight?". I can't remember what he said. We talk to some locals, and told them the story about the girls. They found it amusing.

We start walking home and continue talking about the night. He brings up that the next time he see's the bartender, he's going to abuse her for trying to make her go home with a psycho and tells me she was a rapebaby. "Nice, Rapebaby, wasn't that a word of the day on Sesame Street or something?" "No man, seriously, when we were talking about her cousin and my dad, she goes she doesn't know her dad, because her mum was raped, and that she was a rapechild". Oh dear Oh dear.

When we get home, he texts her, she instantly rings back, and they both apologize and says he can call her sometime if he wants. I can’t believe he brang that shit up about his dad. Way to get a girl in the mood, talk about father issues.

I wake up the next day feeling like absolute shit. Parklife is on in an hour, Fuck, will edit this later.

I got revenge at the next party by getting the guy drunk enough that he felt like death the next morning. Laughter was shared by all when we were observing him through the kitchen window while he was throwing up in the backyard from his chair.

Hilarious.

Anyway, this time around instead of being blamed for breaking chairs (which I do not remember, but have come to accept) or other shit that only the owners of the house frown upon, I have decided to bring my dog to the party.

Genius.

Being a respectable guest (the irony is that I’ve somewhat damaged their house or insulted someone every time I’ve visited) I’ve decided to try and find a dog diaper. The economical way would be to buy baby diapers and to cut a tail hole (you may be thinking, what a fucking idiot (or genius) but there are actually videos on youtube displaying this very act (what doesn’t that site have)), but then i’d have to convert my dog diaper size to baby diaper size and find an appropriate fit, Because nothing says ‘irresponsible dog owner/parent’ than tight or saggy diapers on their dog and I just don’t have time for that shit. Also, Diapers aren’t cheap, and they tend to be sold in bulk. I’m pretty sure diapers don’t have an expiry date, but I don’t plan on getting anyone pregnant soon, and I don’t know any teen hussies or anyone with children from the top of my head. I’d rather not buy a 24 pack of Huggies (free endorsement right there) just to use two diapers so that there won’t be a sneaky turd mountain that will be randomly discovered the next morning or if we’re lucky during the party.

I could be a total dick and use the turd and… No, I have morals (I’m actually taking an ethics class (Its a prerequisite) I should write a report about the ethics and morals about abusing the waste product of a dog at a party, I could title it: ‘Dog turd: waste or potential party amusement?’, bring on the GPA 7.)

So that is my dog diaper dilemma. I’d rather not buy a cloth diaper, or make my own, a cloth diaper on a dog? It’s not a Greek god dress up party. Also since the party has a theme where you must wear a white shirt, i’ve been looking for places that sell dog shirts. Can you imagine, a dog in a white diaper and a white shirt. It’s like the canine equivalent of the KKK, all it needs is a hood. The irony however is that the dog is brown.

Also, There are Korean people coming to this party. When they rock up, they’re going to see the dog and think its a totally different kind of party. maybe I should disguise it.

source: http://www.doobybrain.com

Before you put on your protest shirt and start saying shi(r)t (wordplay) about the Korean comment, I am Korean (the irony)

Yes Please

It was decently priced, and would definitely be cheaper than buying pants with locks, or years of rape therapy.

Also, what says great parent more than whistling to bring your children in. No need to bring in child services, I’m sure Dr. Phil will handle the situation perfectly.

Tonight I was on the bus and some young lass, hmm, no.. tramp sits next to me. I’ll set the picture, Imagine the following:

You get onto a bus, its nearly full, but you don’t mind standing, there’s no moron playing a shit song from his phone at max. volume, no one is coughing, there isn’t any homeless guy sitting in the back sleeping and there definitely aren’t any kids yelling or crying that you want to secretly shout at. You put in your earphones and you start listening to music.
Oh hold on, from a distance you see a figure stumbling towards your general direction, I can’t remember if she had shoe’s or any cheap substitute on, probably not, but she had a loose shirt on and was wearing trackpants, the official uniform of either an athlete (if you’re at the track) or a Derro (if you’re not at the track, stadium and maybe the gym). I looked around at my surroundings, check, definitely not an exercise environment, I safely made the conclusion she was probably from Logan.

Normally I wouldn’t care that people are sitting near me for random reasons but in this case she smelt of ‘eau de toilet’ (wordplay). I could smell layers of her, and they all gave off their own unique scent throughout the wonderful busride.

The top note was as I like to describe ‘Dirty Wet Rat’. This was the first thing I smelt when she sat near me. She smelt like a rat swimming in sewerage after eating half a tub of expired vegemite.

The middle note was what I like to describe as ‘The drunk Russian’. Essentially she smelt of Vodka.

I was on my phone and she kept observing what was on the screen, good thing I didn’t send anyone a text. I avoided eye contact at all cost because I knew she would talk to me, and it was an hour long bus ride.

She had a massive gap between her front teeth. Probably from opening too many jars and cans with her mouth. She also scratched her hair alot, which didn’t make me feel comfortable, I feel like I should have done the whole bus a favor and burnt her, like a witch. It’s what they would have done back in the day, and everyone wishes things were they way they were in the past.

She actually knew someone in the bus and had a loud discussion about how she scams people to join the gym and get’s free membership through their referral system, tattoos, drinking and another various mind enlightening topics.

Her base note was the smell of cigarettes with another pungent smell, Vinegar perhaps? She was sitting in the lotus position facing the seat rest, and would occasionally spread her legs to make a point in her conversation. Let’s just say the ‘aroma’ was heightened and I threw up in my mouth slightly and simultaneously got high.

I wonder if she purchased this unique fragrance. I guess i’ll never find out, looks like my friends won’t be having the ‘Dirty hooker essence’ experience anytime soon, unless they actually hire a hooker, or perhaps smell the hair of a unwashed homeless man. I would have loved to have presented a bottle of it to a friend as a gift, I’m sure they would have loved it. Oh well.

She later called the bus driver, ‘Gav’ and talked to him about drinking or the gym, I wasn’t paying attention, in which the bus driver replied with “Don’t breathe on me”. I laughed on the inside and made eye contact with someone else in the bus and we both gave each other one of those telepathic nods where nothing is said, but you both know exactly what you mean.

At the next stop he forced her out, she stumbled a bit, and walked out forgetting her bag. The bus driver gave her bag to her right before she caught some random bus that didn’t even go to her destination, Logan.

I should have asked for her number when I had the chance. But I don’t think people in her line of work are supposed to do that, She would have charged her usual rate of 20c anyway. Though it would have perfectly closed the gap in her teeth, help pay for her crack addiction and herpes cream I would rather keep the 20c in my pocket and away from her, just like everything else below my waist.

Lesson Learnt:
Starting fucking driving