HOORAH...
I'm officially on holiday as from tuesday night, which was spent getting rat arsed with my colleagues. They do a mean spread down the Southern Cross. I chowed my way through an enormous plate of steaks and gourmet Island Bay sausages with a token amount of salad. I could almost feel my arteries hardening.
So now I can do things like drink beer in the afternoon and go to the beach. Yesterday I was enticed out to Houghton Bay where I spotted this gem...
Not a good beach for swimming, not only due to the undertow but also due to all the shit being pumped into Cook Strait. Clean and green my perky denim encased buttocks. It's a bigger sewage outlet than my mouth, and that's saying something.
I'm feeling rich at the moment so I shouted my flatmates Joel and Tash pizza, had too many beers and went to see the Plastic No Band's final show, which was also the first time I'd caught them, which sucks 'cos they went off. My former flatmate Adam has been playing bass with them for a while, but it was the gat player and vocalist who grabbed my attention. It's quite hard not to notice someone when they're brandishing their instrument at you (ooer). Later on he stuck it through the ceiling of the Good Luck Bar. There's going to be a very unhappy owner and a very happy plasterer soon.
Funny thing happened at the bar that night. I ran into my mate Haylee and we were sitting around having a few pints when we hear some snarky woman behind us saying,
"This place isn't usually all bogan."
So I turned around, put on my best on-the-phone-at-work voice and said,
"Oh I do apologise my dear for being a hairy leather clad beer swilling bogan. Your night must be ruined. You poor thing."
I suppose I could have simply said "Fuck up you snobby bitch", but thought it would be way more fun to be well spoken at her. Should have seen the look on her face. Stupid cow.
In other news, I'm heading down to Christchurch tomorrow, so if any of you from the Garden Shitty want to catch up, have a drink or tell me to stop constantly talking shit on the internets, I'm there for two weeks or so.
So now I can do things like drink beer in the afternoon and go to the beach. Yesterday I was enticed out to Houghton Bay where I spotted this gem...
Not a good beach for swimming, not only due to the undertow but also due to all the shit being pumped into Cook Strait. Clean and green my perky denim encased buttocks. It's a bigger sewage outlet than my mouth, and that's saying something.
I'm feeling rich at the moment so I shouted my flatmates Joel and Tash pizza, had too many beers and went to see the Plastic No Band's final show, which was also the first time I'd caught them, which sucks 'cos they went off. My former flatmate Adam has been playing bass with them for a while, but it was the gat player and vocalist who grabbed my attention. It's quite hard not to notice someone when they're brandishing their instrument at you (ooer). Later on he stuck it through the ceiling of the Good Luck Bar. There's going to be a very unhappy owner and a very happy plasterer soon.
Funny thing happened at the bar that night. I ran into my mate Haylee and we were sitting around having a few pints when we hear some snarky woman behind us saying,
"This place isn't usually all bogan."
So I turned around, put on my best on-the-phone-at-work voice and said,
"Oh I do apologise my dear for being a hairy leather clad beer swilling bogan. Your night must be ruined. You poor thing."
I suppose I could have simply said "Fuck up you snobby bitch", but thought it would be way more fun to be well spoken at her. Should have seen the look on her face. Stupid cow.
In other news, I'm heading down to Christchurch tomorrow, so if any of you from the Garden Shitty want to catch up, have a drink or tell me to stop constantly talking shit on the internets, I'm there for two weeks or so.