Catch 22

Two weeks since I last wrote. I could have sworn it was only 6 or seven days. Mostly not interesting, work, drinking, work , drinking. I have been to waiheke island though. Made the mistake of hiring a bicycle. Massive hills. 8 vineyards and one brewery later, bicycle seemed like a better idea. Not in a writing mood much. Havnt been home for 2 days, feel like death. May e tomorrow

Jog on Bieber

Jog on bieber I woke up this morning (2:30pm) with little clue where I was, how I got there. Luckily I had a very interesting list scrawled on the back of my left hand with which to piece together my night. And day: Sailing Morph suit/mariachi Fiddler Scotland vs USA (friends) Drink 4-5 years Pavarotti Under wear -pink and frilly The is one more word at the bottom of the list but most of its rubbed off onto my face after a night sleeping on it, I think I might get a dictaphone. Sailing : after a heavy night out in town I woke up Saturday morning on a sofa in base backpackers from a slap in the face from Niall, and was confronted by a small shaggy looking spaniel who insisted on telling me how good I was at sleeping. Then the rest of me woke up and the short spaniard told me he had saved me from several tea baggings and having cocks drawn on my face. I staggerd out into the sunshine a went straight for the harbour, via a cafe for a full English (which included a sausage that looked suspiciously like a roasted hedgehog) I booked myself on a Trip around Auckland harbour on the NZ Americas cup sail boat. So I spent the afternoon learning how to sail an 80ft boat in the glorious sunshine. Morph suit /mariachi: Walking up queen street, trying to decided where to eat and if another beer will help my situation or put me on dialasys. All of a sudden my shadow tears itself away from me and goes running up the high street. I suddenly realise it is in fact someone in a black morph suit. Head to toe in a black single piece of spandex, this(I can only assume going by her voice and size) teenage kiwi girl begins to moonwalk up the street. I over hear her say "you know, when no one can see your face it just makes you want to dance". At that exact moment a mariachi band busking round the corner strike up, morph screams " sombrero" at the top of her voice and begins to throw some shapes. Fiddler: a small Irish pub, where the beer is cheap, the staff are friendly, and they have a Justin bieber assassination fund collection jar on the bar. I donated generously. Scotland vs USA: my Scottish friend Niall got into an argument with an American outside the pub. No holds bared, he goes right for the 'your whole country is ignorant' argument, while the American rightly assumes Scotland is full of loud angry drunks. I don't know how this argument started but it's finish was fantastic. Niall :"the tv, the telephone, Tarmac, all Scottish inventions. What have have Americans got? Friends..." Drinking 4-5 years: the Grill staff and myself in the fiddler, talking about booze as you do when your full of it. We all work out that with the exception of illness, none of us had had a single day from drink in the last 4-5 years. Oh dear. There is a beer in a pub in Nz, made by Belgium monks, it's so rare and so amazingly good that it costs £101 a bottle. I want some. Pavarotti: I have absolutely no idea why I have that written on my hand. Good singer though Frilly pink underwear: I'll leave that one to your imaginations.

blur

everything is a

Cookie monster

12 days been and gone, some interesting times have passed. Tuesday night I spent out with the globe crew on a pub crawl. Spent a few hours drinking teapots full of cocktails then it was Mermaids strip club till 5 am. Akd despite all warnings you CAN catch the shuttle home from sky city if you are pissed as a ferret. The weekend bought Easter around. Now this was odd. To an englishman and (technically,well maybe historically) a Christian the Easter weekend is and has always been about having a 4 day weekend and getting pissed in e pub at every given oportunity with family and friends. Having worked in the hospo industry for the last 6 years I myself rarely had chance to experience this to the full extent the ever age working joe enjoys it to. My Easter weekends traditionally consisted of 4 back to back double shifts, a perpetual nightmare of 12-15 hour shifts broken up with a heavy night drinking to drown out the nightmarish memories from the day. The kiwi's do it differently. Taking the lead from America, a specifically secular country as defined by e founding fathers, separating church and state has of course led to the country being predominantly Christian despite the heavy Maori influences. Bloody missionaries. Back to the point. At midnight, at the start of Easter Friday every listened premises in new Zealand that is not food led (restaurant, cafe etc) must close its doors for 24 hours. The same again on Easter Sunday. Right, so to celebrate the death and rebirth of the lord Jesus Christ your saviour, you give everybody 4 days off work the celebrate, then close all the pubs. Smart thinking. That's like giving someone the keys to a brandnw Austin Martin db9, and then Breaking both their legs. I don't think Jesus would be very happy with that. I think he would be down the local reservoir trying to turn it into a nice full bodied pino noir. Thankfully the Irish were on the ball, and friday night we got out early as it was so bloody quiet, what with everyone at home praying, and The Fiddler round the corner opened its doors bang on midnight. We all got steaming drunk and Phils girlfriend stole enough cookies from Subway to fill a small van. For e first time in 6 years I enjoyed Easter sunday and Monday off work. And what did I do? I spent all day Sunday inside watching tv, and spent all day Monday in the pub.