As my punishment....

Since I've not posted for about a million I'm planning to go on a photography rampage tomorrow. Tell me what you want photos of and I'll do my best.

TT has started watching that awful Lonely15 or whatever it's called. I'm totally against violence towards women and girls so I've instantly thought of another thing I'd like to do: I'd like that girl to stand in a room listening to her most hated sound (perhaps nails on a blackboard? Or metal spoon scraping metal saucepan? What's your most disliked noise?) for 5 hours. Then she'd realise what effect her whining voice has on most people. Spew.

So, photo requests and horrible noise suggestions please.

Ben Elton + How I met TT

Just for a change(!) I'm writing this on the bus on the way to work. I'm still getting the weird looks from everyone too.

With the lack of Internet, over the last week I've been doing a bit of reading and catching up with one of my favourite authors. Ben Elton.

It's a strange thing that he's amongst my favourite because I don't find his stand-up comedy funny usually. He's also not a particularly good writer - though better than many of course.

He's a strange guy in that he does live comedy stuff, he writes TV shows, and he writes novels. And he does all of these things both independently and as part of a team. I find the results vary hugely.

Take the TV show Black Adder. It's fantastic - I absolutely love that.

His live stand-up comedy - generally shit.

The books he's written - Some I can't put down because they're so gripping, others I just read because I think that perhaps it's going to improve over the drivel I've read so far. Even on page 200 of 220 I'll still keep going in the hope I'll gain something from it.

The other reason he's one of my favourite authors is due to association. I've associated four particular memories with this guys writing.

Firstly, back in 1998 I was a little sad one day. I'd just quit my first "proper" job and as could be expected from me I went to a pub.

(Grrrrrrr! A lady just got on the bus with a bracelet made entirely of jangly bells! Just hearing her walk to her seat makes me want to yank it off and throw it out of the window. But she took a seat, put on her ipod and is now tapping in time to the beat making them jangle continually. I'm not alone on this - most of the bus is staring at her angrily and tutting but the bitch has her eyes shut. Grrrrrr!)

Anyhoo, the pub was empty apart from the serving wench. I was planning on getting quietly pissed in this empty dinge hole when I noticed a book on a table. Thinking it had been left by a previous customer I went and picked it up. It was "Gridlock" by Ben Elton. I started flicking through and it somehow caught my attention.

I sat down and started reading it. I'd only ready the first couple of chapters and I was hooked. Then the serving wench came over and said "Oh! There's my book. I've been rummaging behind the bar looking for it. It's so quiet in here I need something to do at work!"

She was right. The place was deserted and she'd cleaned everything until it could be cleaned no more. It was still a dark dank smelly shit hole of a pub though. I asked if she'd like a drink and she agreed. "But," she said, "I'll have to be behind the bar incase my boss comes down. And if he does you have to say the drink is yours ok?"

I was happy with that arrangement and we chatted for a couple of hours about my shit day, my shit ex-job, and the book. I of course apologised for reading it but she said not to worry, she'd only read the first couple of pages and that she was a slow reader. I said I'd read the first couple of chapters and she said "Borrow it! You'll be done with it quicker than me, I'll read it after you!"

I accepted her offer. And yes, we ended up spending the night together. I used to be such a slut in the 90's.....

I went on to read his other books. The first one I thought was shitty was "Blast from the past". But again, I'll always remember reading it because it was at such a shit time in my life. I wont bore you with details but suffice to say I doubt I'll ever re-read it for fear of re-awakening memories of that time.

The next pleasant memory was in 2002 when I was reading "Dead Famous". The memories are good because it was my first (and only) blokey holiday. Just me and one of my mates went to Cyprus. I love Cyprus and will probably live there one day - if it doesn't get much more commercialised. I have some good cypriot friends so I still know all the best places to go to escape the tourist at the moment.

But anyhoo, this mate was considerably younger than me and suffered badly from hangovers whenever he drank. He was also desperate to lose his virginity. So it was a fun holiday. I'd go out with him and in his efforts to be more "manly" he'd get stupidly drunk and then end up sulking because I was getting so much more attention than him. I was only rude once the whole 2 weeks though. I was growing up by then.

My mornings were spent reading that book while waiting for him to recover from his hangover and I thoroughly enjoyed the reading time overlooking the beautiful beach at Paphos.

I promise I'm almost done rambling now.

My final and best reason for liking Ben Elton is that he brought TT and I together. I placed a review on some book website in 2002, she read it, she emailed me, and here I am today. Living 10000 miles from my original home with a girl I'd die for.

As you're pretty much directly responsible for bringing me together with the girl I love, if I ever meet you Mr Elton, I'll buy you a beer, ok?

Guess what kiddies?

I'm BACK! Well, more precisely, our internet connection is BACK!

I'll post shortly but right now I need a fix of my regular reads. Hope you've all been posting more than me recently!

Is there such a thing as "Man periods"?

Sometimes I feel grumpy for no reason.

Is that just a human thing or do I suffer from "Man Periods"?

I'm sure it is a cycle thing. I should really keep a log for a few months, and believe it or not, I've actually tried it.

But the one time I tried it I threw the log out of my window at a passing thug and when he turned round to retaliate I was stood "ready" and he just pretended that he couldn't suss where it came from. He didn't want a confrontation.

After that I felt really happy, I didn't bother going to retrieve the book because I thought I wouldn't need it any more. I was happy again. I just presumed the problem was pent-up frustration. I've since learnt there's no such thing. There is always a source for frustration. Until you get rid of it, it'll just keep coming back. Shit. Sorry for this.

I'd forgotten about that. I'm only remembering it now because I'm feeling all "PMT'ish" again.

I feel like throwing a book at someone tonight. If I was in the UK I'm sure I would, because I can be 100% confident of "thugness" there. Over here in Aus I can't. It may just be someone with "ShitFuckArseTorretsBitch" syndrome.

Who knows. I'm going slightly mad. (In the words of my favourite band of all time)

Yes, I know you all hate me

It's honestly not my fault! I've even got proof this time:

www.whirlpoo.net.au

Basically Australias biggest internet provider has gone tits up. 30000 households without internet access. And I'm sat here getting eaten to fuck by mozzies just to tell you.

I've got about a million posts but not enough battery to post them. I've used it all doing essential visa stuff.

If you love me you'll forgive me.

I seem to be saying that to everyone at the moment. Why is life so fucking turdy sometimes?

- TT is pissed off at me for calling the UK all the time for essential info
- My readers are abandoning me in droves for not updating
- My new employers are hinting that I'm doing 7 hour days rather than 8
- All the companies I'm contacting in the UK by phone that promise to call me back the next day don't
- Grrr.
- I feel slightly better for whinging.
- If I had internet and a car my life would be about 10 times better. That's so disproportional but it's true. Two things really can make your life that much better.

But. On the bright side, where would I be without TT? I must remember that I have the best person/companion I could ever dream for. Yes. Deep breaths. Yes. That's better....

Back soon. Probably waving the head of Veritas's head on a fucking pole....

Taxis are bastards

I've long suspected that the taxi's in Brisbane are corrupt. Not just in the usual way (ie. Money grabbing, keep-customer-waiting, Deny ever-receiving-booking, long-route-taking thieves) but in an even more deceiptful way.

I think they actually cheat one another. I'm sure that the different cab companies have found a way to listen in on one anothers radios. I've long suspected it but today I think I've discovered proof.

I was waiting at the bus stop and a taxi came along. He slowed right down and made invitation-type gestures at me. I suspect he'd been called to the stop by someone impatient of waiting for their bus. I shook my head and he drove off. Less than a minute later another taxi done the same thing. He "spotted" me and swerved across three lanes to pull up. I told him I was waiting for a bus rather than a taxi. He looked a little surprised, shrugged and drove away.

About 40 seconds later, take #3. Yet another taxi hooted as he went past. I didn't acknowledge him but he done a U-turn at the lights and came back. He stood at the other side of the street waving me over to him.

I conclude that either:
a) Someone was playing a prank, (by calling several taxi companies and saying a guy in a blue shirt was waiting at Stop 37 - unlikely at 10am on a weekday morning)

b) Someone had made a genuine call for a cab, and they'd radio'd the drivers and every cab company in Brisbane had heard it and tried to get the job.

I may do a combination of a + b just to see what happens.

While on the subject, why is it that there is such a variance between cab drivers? How come some speak no English, have no social skill and drive like loons while others chat away, act socially and even do favours? Just human nature I guess.

I've never forgiven the cabbie that charged me #10 to jump start my car though. I'd just arrived at the train station after a day away to discover I'd left my car lights on and the battery was flat. My fault, I know.

I asked a cabbie if he happened to have a set of jump leads. He did, we got my car started in under 2 mins and then the bastard charged me. He done more harm to his profession in that 2 minutes than has ever been done before. Tighter than a ducks arse. Bah.

A general update on my life

All in all, things are good.

Things that are good:

a) I enjoy my job (mainly)

b) I'm still truly madly deeply in love with TT.

c) I like our house, it's contents and location.

d) The dance classes are going better than I expected. When I concentrate I actually get several compliments.

e) We've bought an expensive book/DVD/online course to teach ourselves Latin Spanish. I'm rather looking forward to it, because I tend to have a flair for languages. Although French is the only language I'm pretty fluent in I've also got the basics of latin, russian, and greek. Yep. I like crap languages.

The only one I never got on with was German (as Lisa knows!) I dunno why, I can only put it down to the awful teacher I had and he made me hate the language for years.

f) I'm going to get a lump some of cash at some point soon.

Things that are bad:

a) I can't get paid for doing my job. I turn up every day, work hard, and yet until my visa arrives I can't be paid.

b) I'm having problems getting hold of the documents I need for above mentioned visa. Every day there's another hurdle.

c) I'm sick again. I'm no stranger to stress yet somehow something is making me ill. It's weird. I had to take a couple of hours off yesterday avo and today I'm going in half a day late. And this is only so that I can show my face, my obvious illness and then ask for the rest of the day off again. I don't think they'll mind since they don't pay me when I'm ill, it'll just hold up the project for a day.

d) I'm spending all my time travelling on, or waiting for, buses. I can't wait to get a car. This will also aid us in other aspects. The journey to the dance class also takes an hour each way even though it's only on the other side of the city. After a days work and travel the last thing either of us feel like is a 45 minute walk.to the place so we stand around waiting for public transport instead. On the weekends we'll actually be able to do stuff and go places. I can't wait.

e) I miss having the time to blog. And I also miss the interface between my laptop and camera which means I can't post photo's at the moment. Silly I know, but annoying in the highest.

f) I miss family, friends, and believe it or not, the UK a bit. It's not major enough to make me sad, but it's still a negative point.

So, in summary it seems that I'm a miserable sod. That's honestly not true. The things I spend most of my time doing (working, being with TT, living at home) are all perfect, so most of the time I'm happy. I should shut up and stop whinging shouldn't I?

Would be nice to be paid for it all though. It think it's definately the "social time" that's pissing me off the most:

a) lack of it
b) lack of money to do anything with it
c) lack of transport to go anywhere free during it

All donations gratefully received at.....(!)

Are you sure that's safe? Is it healthy?

Do you remember me telling you about our health and safety guy at work? The one who has nothing better to do than remind us to check the colour of our urine? Well, he's struck again.

On Friday morning all employees received an email warning us that the fridge would be checked for "unmarked containers and biohazards" This guy loves drama.

We received this email today:

To: All Employees
Subject: It's enough to make you sick

These are some of the things we threw out of the fridges on Friday:

* rotten fruit and vegetables,
* mouldy bread and cheese,
* the remains of a roast chicken carcase more than a week old,
* two tubs of yoghurt three months past their use-by date,
* half a dozen science experiments in unmarked takeaway containers,
* two tubs of margarine with use-by dates of May 2005 and February 2005 (yes, that's right,– 2005),
* and the winner: half a pot of jam with an expiry date of 2004!

It's a wonder that no one has died as a result of extreme food poisoning.

That'’s enough biohazard to make all of us sick."

You can already anticipate my response can't you? Well, incase not, here it is:

To: All employees
Subject: Re: It's enough to make you sick

The fridge hasn't been checked since 2004? Is that safe? Is it healthy? I thought we had someone here responsible for Health and Safety? I'm very worried and don't think I'll be using that cesspit of disease to store my lunch anymore. I must confess to beingdisappointedointed.

Oh, and by the way, the mould in the microwave appears to be so well evolved I think it's about to go on a quest for fire. Perhaps that should be given some attention unless it's already formed its own defensive force?

Regards,

Only Me.

Strangely enough my inbox was flooded with comments such as

"Was your lunch the tasty looking tuna roll? If so, sorry for eating it."

"Once the bin bag wasn't changed on a Friday night and Monday morning there was all hell to pay"

"The health and safety in this place is bollocks. But we have to keep boring old men in employment somehow eh?"

"Our employees health and safety is paramount to our business. Your wellbeing is our primary concern....drivel, blah, drivel"

Guess which one was from health and safety man?

The apprentice / trainee bum

When we go to our dance class we have to alight at a station called Park Road (which I habitually call Park Lane - can't help it, just a mistake I make every time)

Park road is a dodgy station. It's invariably populated with bums, druggies, drunks, whores, muggers and various other pleasant types. Basically it's the kind of place you don't want to be after dark unless you know how to look after yourself or you're able to run fast.

Most times we've been to the station it's been unstaffed. I guess they usually close the ticket office after nightfall to protect workers. But on the odd occasion that it has been staffed it's been attended by a pretty young lady. Odd eh? I figure she must have a black belt in origami or something like that otherwise I'm sure we wouldn't walk around the place so confidently.

She always seems so happy and cheerful. She even chats away with the undesirable characters. I think it's her defense mechanism. I think that she comes across as lovely and likeable so that no one tries to do anything nasty to her.

Anyhoo, this is entirely by the by. What I really wanted to tell you about was an amusing character we saw there last time. As TT and I approached the station last time we passed a really scruffy guy talking on his mobile phone. As we approached and passed him his side of the conversation sounded something like:

"Yes. Yes, I know. Yes."
"In the morning if that's ok?"
"Well, I could come back home tonight but tomorrow morning would be much more convenient with me"
"OK, I'll see you then. Bye, Love you"

Pretty unremarkable eh? That's what we thought too.

However, we arrived at the station and dodged the bums as usual. We took a seat on the platform and to our surprise the guy we'd just heard on the phone came staggering into view complete with a miscellaneous bottle wrapped in newspaper and the most unkempt facial hair you've ever seen.

It grew in random clumps from all over his face and most of it was nicotine yellow in colour. His head hair was matted, greasy, and as uncontrollable as drunk chicks watching a male stripper on a hens night party.

He swaggered up to another bum and slurred loudly "I fuckin' told 'er. Ferkin bitsheshs. I'll fucking go 'ome when I wansh to..." The other tramp guffawed and said something completely incomprehensible to normal human beings. The first guy guffawed in return, they swapped bottles and then began a contest which was probably entitled "Who can cough up the most phlegm while talking".

At this point a train turned up so they decided to see how much money they could accost from the alighting passengers. The first guy was particularly good. He had a technique of putting a hand on the persons shoulder and breathing on them while uttering noises until they gave him whatever they had in their hands just to get rid of him. In a matter of seconds before the crowd dissipated he acquired a couple of cigarettes, a bottle of cola and some coins.

He sniffed the coke, looked disgusted and chucked the bottle over his shoulder onto the tracks. He returned to his fellow bum and they rummaged through one anothers pickings. They congratulated one another (one assumes) by clanging bottles and then our train turned up.

I was quite disappointed. I was enjoying studying them. What the hell was going on? Was the first guy a trainee bum? Was he an apprentice tramp? When he's fully qualified will he swap his phone for a bottle of vodka? Will he leave his wife so that he can hassle young girls on the street instead? Will his wife and home be sacrificed for the dizzying luxury of a park bench?

We've got dance class again tonight, I hope he's there.

Not very exciting news I'm afraid

Just wanted to let you know I've put some more updates on the other part of this website. I've pretty much recorded the month of May 2005 and left it just as we're about to head of the the greek island of Santorini. Real travel starts soon!

Can't wait to write about that, but it's bloody hard work as I'm doing it all from memory. Anyhoo, the archive links somewhere on this page will take you back to May 2005 if you care to. I've written my next post for this but I'm too tired to read through it and publish it...

I'm really happy that it's the weekend, I'm KNACKERED!

Mysterious little china man and angry African lady

When I get the bus home from work I have a choice of several routes. If I'm really lucky I can get one that drops me outside my house, but that's only if I finish work a little early for some reason.

Generally the other routes drop me about a ten minute walk away in the middle of a suburb called fortitude valley, which is Chinatown. The other day I was wandering down the main street in Chinatown, called Brunswick Street, when suddenly this little Chinese man came running out of a shop and started gibbering excitedly in front of me while hopping from one leg to the other.

If it hadn't been for the huge smile I would have thought I'd done something to really upset him. In my best British voice I asked "Can I help you?" and gave him my best curious/bewildered look.

He started pointing at my back pack and saying "Little computer! Little computer!" I `was very confused so he elaborated: "Lirrle computer! Lirrle computer - in there! You use on bus with me!"

I was still very confused and he stopped hopping. He pulled a "Jeez, I'm talking to an idiot" face at me and then tried to explain very slowly and patiently to me: "You on bus. 117. Today. You have lirrle computer. In there. [points vigourously at my back pack] Me. I saw you. On the bus. Wiv lirrle computer. You use. On bus."

So! The strange little man was trying to point out he'd seen me using my laptop on the 117 bus earlier. "Yes. That's right" I reply and walk away. All that bloody confusion just to tell me something I already bloody knew!

There was a good reason I didn't notice any of the other passengers on the bus today. I was sat quite near the end of the bus (using my laptop strangely enough!) I sit near the back so that fewer people can try and look over my shoulder to see what I'm writing. Something about laptops on buses attracts nosey people.

Anyhoo, I was busy doing something or other when this one person behind me, a huge black African lady, yelled something at me. She was only about a meter away but she positively boomed. I had no idea what she'd said so I asked her to repeat it.

She started pointing at the bus stop out of the window (we were stopped at the time) and saying something. I really had no idea what so I just kept shrugging and saying "Sorry, I don't know". She then scowled, got up and stomped off down the bus just as it was pulling away.

She said something to the driver and then came stomping back. She took a seat a couple in front of me and continued muttering. At the next stop she started yelling down the bus to the driver and pointing at me. Then banging on the window.

I seem to attract freaks - it's an uncanny natural ability I have.

Someone got on the bus and came and sat behind me, presumably to be as far away as the mad yelling lady as possible. When the bus started moving me tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I'd mind closing the window a little. I said sure and pulled it to an almost closed position.

Then all became clear. Angry African lady jumped up and started screaming at not just me, but also him, banging on the window, pointing to herself, the driver, and yelling some more.

I don't speak any Nigerian, but I'm pretty sure she was saying "I asked you to close the window and you just shrugged at me. I went and told the driver you were rude and he done nothing! Now you close the window for this man. I'm a little cross. This country is full of very rude people that won't do as I tell them...."

Just guessing though. What strange people one can meet on the buses of Brisbane....

Where on earth am I?

UPDATED BELOW!

I'm back in Australia now. I've been to New Zealand overnight, so that's another country stamped on my passport. Jeez have I got a load of stuff to gibber about!

First and foremost though, I must give tribute to a wonderful girl I met at the airport. Not the usual kind of meeting, the meeting with a fellow traveller. This wonderful girl worked at the airport. Christchurch International information desk to be specific. I arrived about 11pm and I was all out of smokes. And there wasn't a bar or shop open in the whole airport. I nearly cried.

I knew there was a hotel nearby so I went outside to see if I could spot it. Nope. No hotels in sight. But I did see a bus terminal complete with waiting bus. I went along and asked the driver how much and how long to the city (you know, airports are always a way out). He told me he'd be happy to take me for a couple of NZ$ but that the buses didn't run early enough to get me back for my return check-in. I asked him if he knew where the hotel was. He said there was no hotel which dented my confidence in him as I'd been looking at their website only hours earlier!

Filled with doubt as to pass my 7 hours until my flight home I went back into the terminal building and spotted an information desk. I wandered over and asked the nice girl at the counter if she knew anywhere I could buy some smokes. She regretfully informed me that no, there wasn't anywhere.

I asked her if my plan of going to the airport hotel and using a cigarette machine was plausible. She said the hotel didn't have a machine! Then, guess what? She made me such a kind offer I'll always remember it. She said "Hey, I finish work at 12.30 and get a taxi home. On the way we pass a Caltex (Petrol station with shop) so you could just jump in my taxi and get him to drop you there?"

How's that for customer service? She said that she'd send out a tannoy announcement asking me to go the info desk when she finished work. I asked how much the taxi would be and she said "Well, I'm going home anyway, so you just pay to come back here if you want"

As most of my readers will know, I travel lots. And although I meet lots of nice people very few ever actually do anything memory-worthy. In fact, I only have two very vivid memories of people. One is Lisa, the wonderful German girl I met on a flight over here, and the other one was an exteremely kind old lady I'll tell you about another time.

Now I have three! The wonderful girl finished work and as she was locking up the place I asked to borrow a pen. I used it to write a note to her:

[I was going to post a photo of the note but my computer is being an arse]

Instead, here's the text I can (just) read from the image on my camera phone:

"Thank you very much for your extremely kind guesture of sharing your taxi. I truly appreciate it. I don't know if you use the internet at all, but if you do please check www.tb100.blogspot.com where you'll see glowing comments about yourself in under 24hrs"

I didn't give the note to her then (Shy. Yeah, me=shy and lacking confidence(!)) because we stood outside talking about stuff until the taxi arrived. Including of course the title of this post. I honestly had no idea where in the world I was. I've never seen a map of NZ. Apparently it's two islands and I was half way up the southern one.

When the taxi arrived he dropped "wonder-info-girl" off and then took me to the gas staion free of charge. He was a decent bloke.

So all I need to do now is call the manager of Christchurch and tell him how wonderful she is at her job and how much she goes beyond duties to help out poor morons like me.

Got loads more about the trip of course, give me some time and I'll be happily posting away. I typed up loads into notepad at the airport and I think it covered 13 different points all in all!

UPDATE - PLEASE BE SEATED COMFORTABLY...

As I suspected, it's been a very eventful trip.

i) Saying goodbye

The first thing that suprised me was how sad I was to wave goodbye to TT at the local trainstation. For the last week I've been saying (quite honestly) that this is the first time I've not been scared of Brisbane International Airport. In the past it's always meants we're going to be apart for undetermined number of weeks. Today I knew it was just going to be overnight. And yet as we hugged and kissed goodbye I almost felt like crying. It's been four years now and yet we're still getting closer and more attached everyday.

ii) The joys of being British

There were a British couple on the train that had very brummie (Birmingham) accents and obvious drug problems. It was like listening to Ozzie Osbourne. He was saying things like

"Oooh man - Look at that! Shit, it's a fookin plane! I thought it was a fooking big red bird going faster than the train"

"Why do they poot the fookin airpurts soo far away from fookin city man? Evry fooker lives in city so why dunt they poot the fooker right there in the middul?"

After two minutes of sharing the same carriage I wished I was deaf. And not British. People like that should be culled or castrated to prevent the breeding of further imbeciles.

iii) Oh no! I'm a pauper!

I went to the duty free in the airport and my credit card got refused. The embarassment! I've got a bloody platinum card fully creditted up! I could buy a bloody house over here on that card! I only wanted $50 of smokes and spirits! I think it's a security thing because I've not used it for so long and suddenly it's being used on the other side of the world. I only brought that card and $50 cash with me so I apologised profusely while being very red and told them to keep the goods. I didn't want to spend my cash incase I needed it for anything proper. Food for example. Except the vodka. It was on special at $9 so it would have been criminal not to buy it?

iv) Mr Brains-of-Austrlia, the check-in guy

I checked in. The bloke at check-in looked suprised I'd not been assigned a seat. I suggested it wasn't too suprising since it was a budget airline and part of the reason for check-in was to get a boarding pass and seat number. He said no worries, he'd sort me out a seat number. "Oh good" I think to myself, "at least I wont be standing for three hours...." But I say nothing. I've learnt, never piss off airport staff, they can arrange anal probings through security/customs and all sorts of things. But I'm proud to say that's never happened to me.

He assigned me a seat, printed me a boarding pass and then said "Oh. Someone else has that seat. Hang on, I'll find you another." and he beamed at me as though he was doing me a favour. I think "Hmm, well, yes, that would be the obvious thing..." but I supress my brain to mouth communication and nod politely and say "Thank you". I'm British after all. We're not allowed to be rude you know.

v) The runaway

I had about 40 minutes to kill before I had to be at the gate. So I bought a bottle of diet coke (or was it coke zero? More about this later!) and transferred some of the newly purchased vodka therein. I'm not scared of flying, I love it in fact, but I like to have some VC because it makes me a little pissy and I talk to people more. I find most of the fun part of travelling is in the meeting of people.

I then went to the outside smoking area. I got chatting to a woman who had just run away from her husband. They had no children because in the five years they'd been married he'd done nothing but beat her up. Nice fella eh? He wanted kids and she desperately wanted some too, but she didn't want to procreate with a beast like him. Very understandable. So she'd spent the last year putting small amounts of her wages aside to save up for a plane ticket. He doesn't work of course. When she'd saved enough for the ticket to New Zealand (He's not allowed there as he has a criminal record) she'd got him mightilly pissed until he fell into a drunken slumber and then packed her bags, emptied the bank account and left!

You go girl! I sincerely wish her the best of luck in starting a new life overseas and finding happiness.

vi) Tannoy ahoy

While chatting to the lady above there was a tannoy announcement. "Could please contact the staff at check-in gate 81" Bollocks! I've never been tannoyed directly before! I often wait for the "Would remaining passengers for flight XYZ please make their way to the gate as the aircraft is almost fully boarded" announcement but that's not normally targetted exclsuviely at me. This was the first time I'd been requested, and well before boarding begun. As I started walking to the gate I realised what the problem was. I'd not looked into visa requirements for New Zealand. It simply hadn't crossed my mind. Shit. Bollocks. Arse.

I got to the gate and was hugely relieved to be told there were no visa requirements and that they'd only called me to ask if it was Ok to switch my seat. Apparently the guy on the check-in had screwed up and assigned the same seat to two passengers. Mr Brains-of-Australia? Cocked up? Well, no suprises there then! I was really pleased it was nothing serious, but also cursed myself lots for not thinking of checking the visa requirements. It could have been nasty!

vii) Boarding the plane

The story of Mr Brains the check-in bitch doesn't end there. Oh no. I boarded the plane and took seat 26D, my newly assinged seat. It was an airbus so it has 3 x seats, aisle, 3 x seats. ABC on the row over the aisle were empty. As was the row behind them. The seat to my right was empty, and some guy was in the window seat, F. I'd just gotten out my books, my VC and taken off my shoes when a guy walks up the aisle, pauses next to me and then politely produces his boarding pass. Yep. 26D. He and his wife had been allocated the two seats that were occupied by me and the guy at the window! A stewardness asked us all to go and wait at the rear of the plane while she sorted it. I put away my stuff, put my shoes back on and went to wait. It turned out that they were of course supposed to be in the empty row on the other side of the aisle.

As we took off I noticed that the row of three behind them was still empty. I decided that as soon as a hostie walked by I'd ask her if I could move. It's only a three hour flight, but why sit when you could lift up the arm rests and lay down for a sleep? However, the moment the seatbely light went off some fat cow rolled down the aisle and wedged her fat arse right into the middle one. Bah. The hostie told her that she shouldn't be there as the seating arrangments had been prepared to balance the plane. I knew what she meant but the fat cow thought it was an insult about her elephant like weight and went ballistic. It was very funny. In the end the hostie just apologised and walked away quickly before the woman started eating her or something.

viii) I suppose I did look a little suspicious...

I presented my immigration card to passport control. In the "intended length of visit" box I'd put 1 day. He was suspicious but he let me through anyway. Little did I know what the sneaky shit had done...

I proceeded to baggage reclaim and walked straight past because I had no baggage to claim. I was travelling light with just my small backpack. A securty guy at the door told me that the baggage wouldn't be long and I should wait. I explained that I had no baggage and again, he looked suspicious. He let me out though. I then walked through the customs control, choosing the "Nothing to declare" route. I was just about to step out of the corridoor into the arrivals lounge when suddenly a voice behind me called "Mr X! Could you stop a moment please?" Shocked I turned around. There was a very official looking lady stood there. "Our passport control guy rang his alarm and suggested that I should have a word with you. Would you mind?" It wasn't a question though.

An hour later, having repeated my story for the umpteenth time and having had my bag very, very thoroughly searched they finally let me go. They confiscated a sandwich that I'd been saving for laters and told me I was lucky not to get a $200 fine for attempting to smuggle meat and vegetable matter into New Zealnd!


ix) This kiwi is much friendlier!
As I related at the start of my story, it was at this point I got bored and then met the very friendly Tourist Information girl.

x) Upon arriving back in Brisbane guess what happened? Give you a clue. See viii)

Yep. Stopped and searched for the second time in under 12 hours. Repeated story again and again. And it turns out that my business visa does not entitle me to work in Australia. Well, I can work, but not be employed. That throws rather a considerable spanner in the works. She told me I was lucky not to be deported on the spot. She was a kind of Jeckel and Hyde character, being very friendly and sympathetic one minute and then snapping at me the next. Having slept for only four hours in the last 48 hours really didn't help either.

And that's my story. Bet you're glad that's over aren't you? Now I've got to get a different visa sorted out very quickly. Oh the joys....

Health and Safety/OHS/Kiss my arse

OK. We all know health and safety is important. Especially in the workplace. Especially if you work in a hazardous environment such as a nuclear power station or a saw-mill.

But when you work in an office is there really need for a dedicated Health and Safety department?

Apparently there is no need. They are inventing work for themselves to remain employed. Today they sent an email to every employee warning us of the dangers and potential legal repercussions of killing a poisonous snake in the workplace.

Um. Yeah. OK. So this is Australia, but I'm in suburban Brisbane. The chances of me discovering a poisonous snake in my filing tray are fairly remote. Unless I really piss off some work colleague with a bad attitude and a skill in handling/subduing/training wild poisonous snakes found miles from here. In all honesty it would be easier for them to just shoot me or something.

And if I did discover aforementioned snake in my filing tray do you think I'd go and refer to the company Health and Safety manual before holding off strangling it to death with my bare fists? Or battering it to death with my keyboard. No. I'd most likely yell "FUCK ME! A FUCKING SNAKE!" and be out of that building before my work colleagues even registered the first word.

So why put up a detailed post about not killing them. They're worried that workers are killing the local wildlife. Yeah, on a building depot maybe, but not in a computer office in Brisbane fucking central!

Here's something else they have:
Yep. It a picture of a sign we have at eye level in the gents urinals. We are supposed to compare the colour of our urine with this chart.

I particularly love the way it says at the bottom "DO YOU PASS THE TEST?" I some pervert going to come in and invigilate this test? I'll kick him in the 'nads if he tries to.

You may have noticed I said this poster is at eye level. I suppose that's where it catches your attention, but I couldn't help but take a different view on this. You can already guess what I'm going to say can't you?

The other day, after going for a pee I walk back into my rather cramped and over occupied office:

Me: "Hey! M, I just got in trouble in the toilets! I've been bloody fired!"

M: "Drama mate! Shit! How d'ya manage that?"

Me: "I accidentally pissed over some guy from Health and Safety"

M: [aghast] "Shit mate! How?!"

Me: "I was trying to measure the colour of my urine by pissing high enough to reach the chart and it kind of went... all over him..."

M: [wide eyed]

Me: [Can't keep straight face anymore]

M: "You're a fucking pommie bastard! I was about to go and do something really unhealthy and unsafe to those bastards if they'd fired you!"

Me: [laughs]

M: "I can't believe no ones actually fucking tried that. I'm going to try next time I see one of them in there"

Me: "Then tell 'em you're off crook because you had to lean so far back you fell of the step or knackered your back?"

M: "Fuck mate! You're a fucking genius! We could get signed off here for fuckin' months!"


Oh. They also produce a whole walls worth of very colourful graphs and pie charts. Honestly, a whole walls worth. I've been trying to get a photo but there's always someone by reception that would think it odd that the new guy is taking photos of the safety records.

If only she would look she would realise that they are of no use at all. They are all completely uncaptioned. It is honestly a whole wall display entitled " Health and Safety Achievements" and nothing but Excel generated graphs, barcharts and pies. With the keys removed. I guess they think visitors and management like to see pretty graphs. That's true.

But then you always get the awkward one like me that will take it to the big boss and say "So, sir. Tell me, I'm working under my own initiative to improve Health and Safety here. I'd like to write a database in my own time. Could you tell me whether the pink piece of pie on this chart is good or bad? It seems to fluctuate year from year? Or is it just the number of Sport and Leisure questions the H&S team got right at the annual company quiz?"

I'll see if I want to stay at the company. If I like it I can figure a way to get H&S budget switched to me and my evil empire building ways. If I don't like it I'll leave them be. Ce sera sera...

Jiffy Corn Mix and the onset of illness

G'day all!

I'm writing this in retrospect incase you hadn't guessed. Anyone checking regularly would have noticed my absence during the past week. Thanks for putting up with my lack of contact. Subsequent to today's earlier post I was going to back date these but that doesn't make much sense, so here's just one that I wanted to summarise about last Sunday. The dates don't really matter for the rest of the gibber I have.


Sunday 3rd Sep (Last Sunday - the one after my joyful boast of postings galore - sorry VUBOQ)

TT woke up feeling pretty rough this morning. She said almost immediately that she wouldn't be able to make it to the birthday party we'd arranged to attend for Helen. She was a kind of green colour when she said it and then just made it to the bathroom in time to spew kind of vaguely in the direction of the toilet. We didn't even go out on the piss last night so I know it's something horrible.

I spoke to Helen about 10am.

She'd been on another free hot air balloon ride. Envious? Me? Nah, just check out the comments I've made on her site about joy-riding a hot air balloon. Of course I'm not envious. Seeing them drift peacefully across the skies at 7am with majestic views of Australia, far above the noise and basking in tranquility...

But anyhoo, I digress. She confirmed which train we should catch etc, and I advised her that I'd probably be alone as TT was ill. But it may improve, so we'd confirm details later. I then got an SMS telling me that as she'd had such an early start and that so many people had backed out owing to it being on a Sunday evening, combined with Aussie Fathers Day, etc., that she'd decided to cancel. I felt really sorry for her but we have promised one another we'll meet up soon to make up for it.

By midday TT did feel quite a bit better. Not up to going out but she was in the mood for eating something but it had to be something quite plain. VUBOQs package came to the rescue!



I suggested muffins but TT pointed out we had no muffin dishes. Then I spotted a recipe on the side for something called "Jonny Cake" (tee-hee!) which basically means a big square muffin. But we don't have a big square baking tray. Instead we have a fucking huge rectangular one. Unperturbed I began preparing muffin mix. I had a cunning plan.

I needed an 8" x 8" baking tray and ours is about 10" x 15". I didn't want to mark the tray in any way so I cut two pieces 1" piece of stalk from an onion and laid them alternately end by end until I knew the exact 8"x8" positions. I then mushed up an old stale loaf of bread with some water to make a putty.

I laid tin foil in the tray, laid on the putty bread and then curled it upwards to form walls at the 8" x 8" boundaries. I was very chuffed with my ingenuity. But also more than little worried that the effect of being back in an engineering environment is having on me already.

TT took one look at it, tipped the whole lot in the bin and said "Mixture. From that jug, into there" pointing at the centre of the tin. Bah. Women.

As I suspected it turned out more like a Jonny biscuit than a Jonny cake, but it was tasty enough nonetheless. In fact, so tasty I'm not going to waste the other two packets until I have appropriate cooking apparatus. Wish I'd taken a photo of the result, but alas no. Sorry.

By the end of the day TT was feeling worse again and I was starting to feel shitty too.

Apologies y'all

TT and I have been layed up in bed for most of the week again. I've never been ill so frequently until I moved to Aus and yet my diet and happiness has improved so much.

I don't understand it at all. Sorry folks, I'm back to work today though (hence the 5am start - gnagh.)

I've written a few notes so I'll try and change that to a blog post during the day and post it next day or two. Don't forget that I'm going to New Zealand tomorrow though, albeit just for an overnight jaunt.

You just know that'll lead to stories for Sunday don't you?!


Double take

A wonderful moment!

I'm finally posting form home using my own internet connection!

Yey! We've finally bought our own ADSL and router and secured it to the hilt. We've even given it an abusive name to piss off any wannabe hackers!

Yey! I'm so happy - proper internet again for the first time in three months! Get ready for drivel galore...