This, too ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blimey, don't I just feel terrific?
Yesterday I allowed Sydneyguy to convince me that we need beer, though I talked him down to the cheapest carton available (which, unfortunately, happened also to be the strongest), and was also able to put him off buying more pot. I'm frightfully responsible like that. In the end he still managed to call people at half two in the morning, get yelled at by his boss, and be threatened with a punch in the ear from Bigkiwiguy. I awoke on the settee when Whothefuckisthatguy decided it'd be a super idea to put on A Perfect Circle at quite some volume before passing out again on the floor. Why is there an empty Bourbon bottle at my feet? Who the fuck is that guy? Where did this chair come from? Where is Adelaideguy's hat? Where is all of my money? Who sent these texts from my phone? Why do I think that I remember being in a taxi last night? What the fuck is going on? Why are my clothes wet? These were my thoughts prior to Aw, shit, I'm going to be sick. To elaborate, because it is obviously important to the fate of the world that I do so, I could say that I actually quite liked that hat, and I wonder if I should look for one of my own instead of just stealing Adelaideguy's. Oh! I just remembered why my clothes were wet. Adelaidegirl with a waterpistol. That fucking city keeps stealing my memory and making me sick and impoverished, and I've never even been there. Don't fuckin plan to change that. Oh, well. On to general affairs. For once I actually want some things. At least a little bit, when I'm in a good mood. Lately I must admit that I have not often been in such spirits. Still, I think that, in spite of the excessive heat, the plagues of flies, the dangerous spiders, the slight shortcomings of the ale and the shortage of really comfortable pubs, the presence of a largely evil government, my disinterest in most sports and beachy things, the fact that I still haven't really enough friends to keep me from feeling frequently lonely, and this and that, I should like to live here beyond the term of my visa, if I could. There is a marginally lower ratio of dickheads in the general population, everyone's pretty, they speak something approaching English, and it's really fuckin far from Lancashire. Yesterday Quietguy departed, leaving behind a tent which he called too heavy to bother with. People keep giving me pot. I find myself merrily inclined to give people ale. It's weird. Twice since I've been here people have walked up... sorry, since it's here they've rocked up, and asked if I'd like a job. Bizarrely, both times I've said, "Yeah, all right then." So we'll see if anything happens there. I'm sick of the Gunn, though. People snore, upstairs gets way too frickin hot, friends newly made depart to go fruit picking/home/to-Fiji, and the rates just jumped up by $30 a week. It's still not a bad place, it's just not really where I'd choose to be for the long term. Unfortuantely I can't quite be arsed looking for a flat or such thing, and don't fancy wandering about inspecting places and gambling on finding people I don't dislike. Today, a tram-crazy disguised as a normal person with places to go and access to a shower decided, as crazies so often do, that amongst forty people I appeared to be the ideal guy to experience the full force of the crazy sermon. Almost all the people that I end up caring about turn out to be carrying enough terrible experiences to excuse craziness, while all the people who actually have craziness end up interested in me. This guy didn't appear to know or care that the music coming out of the side of my head meant that I was wearing earphones and couldn't hear a thing he said after, "They shouldn't cross their faces, they should cross their CUNTS!" which I really only got due to his helpful gesticulations. Can't a fellow be hungover and awestruck by Someasiangirl in peace, guy? What was I talking about? Oh, wanting stuff. Yeah, I wanna stay. I want somewhere to live, to have a little bit of space to myself (strangely, given how lonely I've been), to cost me less money than the Gunn, and to have somewhere to invite people round, you know? Then I could be all, hey, Thatgirl, drinks to break-in the crappy little place I've decided that I can just about afford, come, bring friends (if you must) and booze. What else do I want? I was thinking about it on the tram, and there were certainly things, but I appear to have them crazied out of my head. Oh, I want a hat. I look funny in a hat. Hey, look, my sister finally replied to my E-mail. How can the smartest kid in college be comfortable with using your instead of you're? Also, dad's started using emoticons. I think that I may have lectured everyone on communism, the other night. 5:53 p.m. - 2007-01-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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