Holy crap it's been a long time since I've written on this thing. There have been quite a few things that have happened since my last post. Gather around children and let me tell you a tale filled with wonder and excitement!
I got fucked up on New Years Eve. Drank way too much. There were 3 parties that I knew of happening on NYE but I didn't go to any of them. Lachie organized a house party literally 2 days before hand and managed to get a fairly decent turnout considering the time constraint. It started off with some casual drinks and well behaved and controlled games of beer pong, but after about 4ish hours my snazzy gentleman demeanor spiraled into a Gollum like character. We managed to walk to Coogee for a bit to meet a few people and chill out. When we got back we played 20 games of consecutive flip cup. We went through an uncountable amount of champagne, goon and beer. It turns out that I can be quite persuasive when I'm drunk coz I managed to convince a girl who had lasted till 1:00am trying desperately not having a drop of alcohol to have 1.5 bottles of a champagne playing flip cup with me and my team. I later found out that her desire to be sober that night stemmed from an (how should I write this that's not disturbing?) explosive gag reflex to alcohol. I spent the remainder of the night chatting to Andreas, a German guy who was visiting Australia for a few days, and looking after Sven, a German guy who had passed out puking in my backyard. It was a good night :)
Oh speaking of international people, I've managed to organize more of my trip. I'm not sure what I've told you before in previous posts, but i'm going to assume I had no clue what I was doing back then so I'll tell you the plan from the start. I leave on the 24th of Jan (that's right, in 3 weeks!) and I visit the following countries in order:
Indonesia
Thailand
Nepal
Dubai
Turkey
(insert almost every European country)
France
Malaysia
Australia
I've recently booked a unlimited train pass around Europe. This is beyond awesome because it means I have complete freedom to travel any path I like from Turkey to France. I really like the idea of waking up in Italy for breakfast and then deciding spontaneously that I want to be in Switzerland for lunch and Germany for dinner. I'm not sure how fast the trains travel though, so I guess I'll probably end up having all my meals on the train :/
Oh yeah, so in case I haven't mentioned this before, I currently
look like a yeti. I haven't cut my hair (or styled it) since February 2014 and
I haven't trimmed (or styled) my beard since November 2014. I'm not kidding
when I say that I've forgotten how many friends have pulled me aside in private
to tell me how much they hate the appearance. I’ve noticed parents shy their
kids away from me when I walk down the street and homeless people look up
at me with a weird smile of admiration. My parents also recently pointed out
that the curls I’m getting on the side of my face are making me look Jewish.
Maybe if I keep growing my beard out I might look Muslim. That would be ironic.
I even asked for a house vote to see if
I should cut my hair or not. The vote wasn’t good – 6 to 0. Even I voted that I
should get my hair cut. I keep telling everyone I know that I’m only growing my
beard and hair out so that I can have a natural rug to constantly hug my face
when I’m climbing the frozen heights of Everest. However, I’ve never had the
strength to tell my closest friends and family the real reason why I keep
growing my beard – that’s why I decided to post it on my public blog. You see folks, the real reason I’ve kept this
disgusting appearance for almost a year is because… I want to trademark my
youth. I want to see pictures of me on Facebook in 30 years and think to myself
“wow, I’ve come a long way”. I know it looks disgusting, it’s itchy, unclean
and oh so impractical in the middle of the Australian summer, but goddamn it!
If I could grow a ginger afro, I totally would.
Ok ok, enough about me. It's time for me to tell you guys about my current roommates. They've been staying here for about 6 weeks now and it's entirely my fault I haven't talked to you about them. One is an Italian called Mitch (his actual name is Michele, but I can't pronounce it without offending him so I just call him Mitch), and the other is called Ann (her actual name is Anke or Ann Katrin or something but I can't say that right either). Mitch is 29 years old and loves playing beach volleyball. At first he joined me playing beach volleyball, but it wasn't long until I realized he was muuuuch better than me so I quit out of shame. He's also a professional soccer coach trainer so he knows a whole lot about fitness. Most trainers like him would ask for a $200/hour training session but I asked him if he'd be willing to train me every day for a reasonable payment of 1 beer per week. He didn't accept - typical stingy Italians, eh? Ann is completely different. Reason (1) she's female. Reason (2) I suspect she's probably the most mess sensitive in the house. Amazingly though she seems to love rolling in the Animal House filth with the rest of us. I think she's just remarkably trained at hiding her disgust and pain when she walks into the kitchen or bathroom. Reason (3) She's a Chemistry student (I'm very sure she isn't a Chemical Engineer due to Reason 1) on some scholarship to try and cure cancer or aids or something. Both Mitch and Ann are awesome sauce. They're remarkably friendly and social. Both of them have independently shown me great songs to listen to: Mitch introduced me to Dramma Nero by Coez, and Ann introduced me to Aaron by Paul Kalkbrenner.
Ok, I'm almost done with my riveting story. My website is finally completed. I can begin putting my own content on. This is great for me. Sadly it's quite late - it would have been perfect if this happened 6 months ago. None the less, this event has given me a powerful motivational kick I needed to get some more educational videos produced.
Alright kids, that's it. I've got work tomorrow and I'm way too tired to write more about my life. Wait till the sequel.
No comments:
Post a Comment