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.

Monkey grind

An interesting few days past this week... Started my new job at The Grill restaurant in Auckland, the first fine dining restaurant I have ever worked in. Partly run by Sky city, partly by an apparently famous Aussie chef Sean Connelly. I have to dress like a penguin, shirt, tie, waistcoat and shoes that give me blisters. Unlike all the other bars I've worked in, this is purely dispense bar work. Take a ticket, make a drink, pass it off to the waiters to get the glory. That being said, I made a 5 dollar top for "a stunning margarita", and I have been tipped as making the best old fashioned in Auckland thoug I suspect as the gentleman was 5 old fashioned down I could have given him a rum and coke zero and come out on top. I must confess, I'm already a little bored. The restaurant is quietening down as Easter looms and summer closes. The hardest part of the job is deciphering the acronyms for the 350 different wines. It's is quite nice to be back on the bottom for a bit, no paperwork, no real responsibility. There's another English guy working as a waiter who feels very mucho eh same having recently sacked in a GM job in England for a slice of the quiet life. I think I can stick it out for a few months, the pays not bad and the people are nice enough. I have already managed to break 6 rather expensive wine glasses and skewer myself with one, much to the amusement of the entire staff. O, and I tripped over a blind man, very nearly snapping his white I stick under my giant clown feet. Thought he was a street sweeper. And most unhappily, I am missing the ack.and beer festival due to work. Balls.

Irish gold

Comedy It's been a few days since I've written now. Admittedly, not a lot has happened in the last few days in the grand scheme of things, but enough to make me chuckle at the very least. On Friday I moved into jens house out in mt Wellington. Its beautiful out there, a mere 12 k from the city centre, but it feels like a different world. I have my own room, double bed, and a 40 inch tv and 400 plus DVDs to keep me company. The cats...well two I never see, the third insists on walking between my legs at every given opportunity, andhaving a nibble on my flesh when I'm not looking. Saturday night was great. I met up with Hayz, an old friend from the uk from the good old creative days. We spent a few hours reminising over wine, and once again ended up in the fucking globe. Sunday and Monday mostly consisted of me slumped on the sofa eating and watching tv. A welcome change to my darkened dungeon in base. It was quiet, peaceful, there was sunshine and a window I could look out of! Tuesday- I decide after two days of sweet fa it's time to sort my life out to some degree. I take the train into town-after a mad dash around trying to find a cashpoint so I can buy a ticket on the move- on,y 40 mins and undoubtedly more pleasant than the equivalent London commute from zone 3. I try my very best to get my IRD (nz tax number akin to the Uuk's NI)' but alas my documentation isn't good enough for the nz government and I have to wait fr the arrival of my English driving licence in the post (thanks mum). So I end up in the Darby, not quite the globe, but shares toilets with it so it might as well be. I join Niall for what began as an innocent coffee, but when it turns out they don't have English tea (the Scott nearly threw a chair through the window), we settled on tiger and e drinking began. It was after 12 so acceptable, barely. We are joined by Declan and Owen, two Irish lads from the globe. The conversation quickly turns from Brittany's obesity problem to Jesus and his 5 fishes. W had between us two Catholics, a Protestants and myself, Christian raised but sceptical at best. Oddly enough, if you have ever read The God Delusion but eh infamous Richard Dawkins, there is a paragraph T the beginning of the book stating 'by the time you finish this book if you will not believe in god'. I have paraphrased slightly, but you get the gist. I started that book at the age of 21, after several friends and relatives had passed through both natural and unfortunate circumstances and I had turned my back on God and considered myself an atheist. My work is based predominantly around logic and numbers so science is my religion. Tis book however, had e opposite effect our devious little dawkins intended and infant opened my mind once more to the possibility. I am relieved it was just a mind opening, despite how fantastic the irony old be when presented to sir atheism himself. Anyway, Owen preceded to tell us how he had managed to have a quick shag in the Vatican, twice in fact as they were unsure the first time as to whether they were intact inside the official boundarys of the Vatican. Legend. Also, in true Irish -I don't give a fuck what you think bout me- fashion he regained us with heartwarming stories of his wet dreams and raoe fantasies. I fell off my stool twice. And then had the balls, being a rather over weight man himself, to take the piss out of the the three stick thin spaniels walking by with a pizza each under their care. 'three pizzas for 3 people, that right there is the problem withthe world. Faking dominoes'. God bless the Irish and their complete disregard for discression. Finished off the day with a 500g steak the size of my face at Father Teds, for 15 bucks!!

Rain

I find out this morning most of the North of the north island is flooded, people have no power, dogs and cats everywhere. And ive been moaning for 3 days that i cant walk the 10 yards to the pub without getting my jandles wet.