Dickhead Central

Trip Start Sep 09, 2004
Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Australia  ,
Thursday, August 16, 2007

'Kiss your mother with that mouth?'

..and life ticks on. It took a bit of raking but I managed to sift out a few diamonds from the rough. As expected we got moved into the 'staff house' at the beginning of the month along with 'Lady Linda', an avid backpacker from Dublin with shocking language and two flat feet. I don't think I've ever met anyone with flat feet. Naturally I offered to get her a foot pump but she wasn't having it, reckons it's all a silly myth. She too has struggled with being stuck in 'Dickhead Central' and so has found respite in the mutual sanity we've shared. The dickheads themselves have been on top form and have took my shockability level to new heights, including one guy who deliberately upsets his missus so that she (very predictably) takes him outside and knocks some of his teeth out before beating him unconscious with the bonnet of his car (apparently he gets off on it,) or the guy who's keys I took from him one day as he crawled to his car steaming of Jack Daniels. Like an idiot I gave them to one of his colleagues thinking that he'd keep them safe and him out of trouble. Ten minutes later and the piss-head is spotted screaming down the road in his ute snaking in and out of both lanes.

Aussie's can definitely put away their beer, and since my arrival in March I reckon I've seen more drink driving than I've seen in a lifetime. These guys will think nothing of cracking open a stubby of beer to drink in the car on the way to the shops, the 'drive thru' bottle shop, or as is is usually the case, to and from the pub - pissed all the way. Walk into our bar on any night and you'll generally see the exact same faces as you did the night before, thoroughly muntered, backstabbing and abusing one another as if their life depended on it. It couldn't be more retarded. And to think I'd got this to look forward to day in-day out for the foreseeable future? Not on your nelly. Desperate measures were called for. I had to get out of that bar, and it was just at the end of the month that I had a sudden sharp intake of breath as my window of opportunity flicked on like a distant bulb. The chef had decided to move on to greener pastures and in true rat-up-a-drainpipe fashion I got my head in right in that little window - ears, shoulders and all. Once I'd got the right people groaning over Scotty's scrambled magic my fate was sealed and BAM...I was hired. Relief!

It's been a couple of weeks already and things are going like clockwork. They leave me to my own devices and so I get to do my own thing which is nice, and a whole world of contrast to that of dealing with imbeciles every waking hour. Words can't express the joy. This way I don't have see or hear the pathetic goings-on, and that means life here - albeit temporary - is that little bit more blissful and I get to spend more time with the few diamonds who've started to shine through. Like Big Greg who I've been supping with on the weekly Skimpy run as well as playing a load of squash with at the local YMCA, Chris the Greek (known locally as 'The Wog') who's as off the wall as anyone I've met, thoroughly unique and a total banter head which is always great medicine, plus a few staff at the restaurant who've shone through and made it all worthwhile. Not forgetting Lady Linda who's earned herself the highly acclaimed title of 'Mrs Robinson' (or 'Robbo') following her ongoing obsession and meddling with toyboys. The oddest mix and strangest of times but one I'm sure will generate smiles in the years to come.

I've uploaded a couple of pics of the Superpit which sits just at the end of Burt Street here in Boulder. This is the big driving force I was talking about. Take a look. It's the largest open-cast mine in Australia and is absolutely stupid in size. The tiny dump trucks you can see down there are those giant goliath machines that make cars look like matchbox toys - totally messes with your persective, totally amazing. Just standing there on the very lip of the abyss, taking it all in and letting it feed the senses is a real marvel.

Thanks to Caro for the timely phone call. As crazy as your ass is it was a blessing to have an excitable conversation. Here's to the hierba verde y vino querida, muchas gracias, besos.. ;)
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cguzik on

Let me raise my glass of Sauvignon Blanc and cheer for you my friend!!!! As we said in my lovely Colombia SALUD COMPADRE!! The green grass is freaking amazing, love every single piece of it. And about the phone calls...you know you can ALWAYS count on my to make you laugh.

'Salud por la HIerva Verde, el vino y una buena cancion!!!'

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