I love weekends...

This weekend was rather relaxing.

Had a BBQ with Jared, Jess, and Dave, then went out with Guy for a few beers at a place called Mercury - Guy decided that it was the type of place he'd take a woman if he wanted to seduce her so watch out ladies you'll be powerless to resist his mojo.

Saturday I met up with Stu and Guy in Petone for the Jackson Street festival. There is a Speights Ale House in Petone now - not entirely sure if its something to be proud of but they have one so lets just leave it there.

We went to Davey's house which is in this cool almost apartment-like flat above a Pizza place for a few more beers - which turned in to a few more and then a few more. Yeah we missed the bands playing 20m away but had a good time anyway and everyone thought Stu was cute, but Stu seems to have that affect on men sometimes so go figure.

Man, you take road trips with passion.

So its 10am on Tuesday 17th. My mum says “It would be good for you to get out of the house”. It’s funny how the biggest/best journeys start with the smallest steps.

I decide to take mums suggestion to the extreme and no less than thirty minutes later I’m sitting in a rental car with eternal good mates Guy and Tony travelling north… with passion.

A quick stop at Harcourt park to check out Dad’s Omaru stone carving, which appears to be coming along nicely. He sends us on our way with the best hand gesture ever invented, meanwhile feminists everywhere cringe, and the lads laugh for the next few thousand kilometres. Hilarious, as always Dad. Again and again I ask the question “Is there anything he can’t do”? The resounding answer, as always, is simply “No”.

Dads Carving

In Otaki, we stopped off at Tony’s auntie’s place; we eat egg salad and coo at some baby swans.

During our drive through the Taranaki region we visit Tony’s country in-laws and after a vomit inducing drive down a lost highway find ourselves late for dinner at Whangamomona Hotel. A Three course meal and a few beers later, we are feeling pretty fucking satiated. Sleep time. Awesome.

The Hotel

The next morning what I had thought for the past three days was constipation turned in to an epic day of three different medical professionals copping a feel of my testiculi. Finally the surgeon at New Plymouth hospital confirms what I kinda thought all along. Namely that I don’t have a hernia, I’d simply torn an “FM” during an all night bender, refer last Sundays entry…

Eventually after tiring of having my testicles felt up by men in white gloves we make it to Hamil-shit – a town punctuated by its pure shittiness. We stayed with friends that were seemingly oblivious to the aforementioned shittiness – i.e. they had actually bought a house to live in there. Seriously each to their own but Hamil-shit is just not for me Jon and Lisa.

It was great to see young Chizzy again. He is thriving and looking well, we drank the organic beer we picked up at a crazy little brewery on the way to Hamil-shit earlier in the day. Yes that’s right ladies and gentlemen; earlier in the day, in fact mere hours after being discharged from hospital I was visiting a brewery.

The next morning was the day of The Big Day Out, so we drove to Auckland, a town punctuated by its unadulterated and unwarranted superiority complex. In my opinion, the only thing complex about this city is getting from place to place.

This is me in Hamil-shit.

We find our way to Guys sister Sophie’s place without too much trouble. We grab Tony’s BDO ticket from Sophie’s letter box; it’s been couriered there because Tony is awesome… at forgetting important shit. He would seriously forget his own balls on the way to an orgy if they weren’t in a bloody sack.

We park the car, Guy has a beer and proceeds to use the “peer pressure” technique followed by the “I will give you money” technique to convince me to come to the BDO, it works cause I’m a proud capitalist at heart. We head to the building that says “Railway Station” in big-ass letters, we’re so smart. Of course the people inside laugh at us as they tell us that this is not actually a train station. Fucking funny bastards if you ask me.

Tracking down the actual train station with the help of MAX - the friendly bus timetable company - we eventually board a train. Going on our present luck it might not have been an actual train, though it appeared to get us to our destination and acted very train-like.

The sun is hotter than your mum so I grease myself up… in sunscreen. There are still door sales so I guess there is no pulling out now.

Things I did/Bands I saw etc

- Went to the inflatable bar, weird.
- The Living End – quite rocking
- Purved, got some food, wandered around avoiding ex’s and workmates, looked at stuff.
- Elemeno P – didn’t live up to expectation
- The Brunettes – Heather will you marry me?
- Henry Rollins – he doesn’t like GW bush, sweet.
- Wolfmother – awesome, awesome, awesome – I bought the CD.
- Iggy and the Stooges – I foresee many more years for that machine of a man.
- White Stripes – a bit too instrumental but still awesome.

So it’s on the train and back to reality. Because we are in Auckland, it turns out our train does not go to the station we came from so we get off at Newmarket and walk down a street called Parnell Rd hoping it goes to Parnell, thankfully it does.

Sophie is awesome; I think I will marry her. Her shower was a welcome sight and cleanliness soon followed. Her flatties were having a few drinks but we were too tired to really participate, so we all piled in to Sophie’s room and slept like babies.

All praise to Sophie for taking us to a decidedly nice and non-wanky place for brunch, I got French toast smothered in bacon and maple syrup; it was just what I wanted, Sophie is Ō for awesome.

We arrived in Pahia about 7pm after a leisurely drive stopping off at two places, firstly a really nice beach for a swim and a spot of Frisbee and secondly stopping at some nature reserve with a big cliff and a few Ram’s with large sacs, Tony insisted on taking photos. At this point we recorded a few Maori myths and legends from a book Tony bought on audio, they’re awesome I’ll post them.

Us at really nice beach

Tonys gratuitous sac pic

We stayed with Tony O’Conner whose family was very hospitable. Later on that night we ate fish n chips and got drunk. We went to this dodgy bar called the Lighthouse or something. There was a cover charge, at first we were thinking lets go somewhere else, then upon realising that there was no where else to go we paid up and went in. I was king of pool holding on to the table for quite some time until I gave it away due to a Wet T-Shirt competition beginning. Perving followed, then the sense that this sort of thing really should be illegal and probably is, but this is northland and nobody cares. There are lots of photos – Tony was holding the camera – but I won’t post them.

The walk home was interspersed with howls of Wolfmother “Come and see the minds eye, we can find it if we try” and other heavy metal acts performed by yours truly on a rickety picnic table. Colossal. Oh and Guy played front spoon that night.

Wolfmother himself, i.e. me

After a splendid breakfast we set off to explore the birth place of our wonderful nation. The Waitangi grounds were simply fantastic, there was an inspiring sense of history everywhere and I read every single word on every single sign, go on test me. In summary; the flag pole is bloody colossal, the view breathtaking, and the entry price worth every penny.

Colossal flagpole.

Inspiring sense of history.

Following our serious trek through the birth canal of our nation we needed some light relief. So Guy drove the car for a few kilometres, cue laugh track.

We met up with Lucy, Tommy, and Alex, some British siblings with a campervan that we met at the aforementioned wet t-shirt competition, they like us, did not compete. What followed was the single most amazing mini-golfing experience in existence. Seriously if you get the chance to play the Paihia mini-golf course do it, you will not regret it. Allow 2 hours if your group is like 5 people or more and expect to pull off shots like the so named “axe attack” where by one holds the club with a two handed axe grip and strikes downward on the ball thus causing the ball to pop skyward out of the sand trap, complex man. This is one course where a working knowledge of trigonometry just isn’t enough, you’ll practically need Stephen Hawking doing the calculations to stay out of the bunkers, pity his wheelchair wouldn’t be able to navigate the course.

There were hot chicks too

We ate curry for dinner then Guy played front spoon again.

The longest drive ever:
So we had one day to get from Paihia to Wellington because Guy had work the next day. We left at 9am, to the tune of our Maori language pronunciation CD and got petrol in Auckland, sure we had to ask for directions to get out but we found one friendly stranger that even took off her sun glasses to speak to me and tell me how to get back to the motorway – how polite.
We had lunch in Cambridge, there was a statue of a horse but we didn’t get a picture of me riding it. We played mini-golf in Taupo and picked up young Chizzy’s cousin Sarah, swam in the lake and ate burger king.

Only one of us saw the Taniwha on the lake.

We reached Wellington at about 12am, epic.

The end.

I'm back...

So yeah, Tony and Guy turned up and packed my bags and basically kidnapped me and took me on holiday for a week. I have over 200 megs of photos to share and I'm working on a write up, watch this space.

Now free is my kinda price man!

Went to the free concert in the gardens again earlier this evening, The Aviators were playing and yes they were wearing aviator glasses, well most of them were. They’re a funk band and they are… well… funky – I even danced so there you go.

It was the lovely Rebecca’s birthday. Lots of the same people from Friday night were there as well plus Stu, Lauren – yes that Lauren, and of course Tony and his mate Richard from Nelson.

Also ran in to the vivacious Tanya who is another friend of Tony’s. There was talk of the W.Indies game, must get her number.

Tony is up from Christchurch on his merry way to the Big Day Out. Tony and Guy have hired a car and intend to take a week to road trip the North Island, I’m sure it’ll be huge and they’ll love it. There is some talk that I might go with them, originally I couldn’t go cause I couldn’t get leave, however now that its doctors orders that I stay away from work it does sound mighty tempting. No decisions as yet, I never was one to believe in fate but it is mighty convenient. I’ll sleep on it.

Rebecca’s flatmate Gabriel was there also, there is something alluring about her that I can’t put my finger on, she seems quite hard to read. I wonder if she is single.

All Star Weekend...

A Super Saturday.

Thanks G for waking my lazy ass up at 1pm by the way, I should buy you flowers.

It was a hot sunny blue-sky day, a day for falling in love if you will. What transpired wasn't quite like falling in love but it was pretty close. We played basketball, we had a 3 point shoot out, a slam dunk competition and there was a horse involved. The gangly limbs of G-Master Dunk were the winners on the day as expected.

Followed by a scoop of chips we pac-ed and save-ed, choc-barr-ed and had a very civilised BBQ back at Jazzy-highest-individual-dunk-score-of-the-day-Jay-dogg's house. Neilio was there, I finally found something in common with him, we're both unliked by the same person for the same reason, some bonding took place.

We played cards over a few beers then went home, super.

A blast from the past...

So it was Friday the thirteenth and some totally whack shit happened, read on.

First of all can I just say that Wellington totally rocks. You simply can not argue with a month of free concerts in the Gardens!

With a bottle of red, a chunk of brie, a pasta salad and a loaf of bread, I sat down a little sceptical at first, but was charmed by an atmosphere of good vibes. All thanks to Rebecca for the idea of course, otherwise I wouldn't have even gone.

I saw The Chandeliers/Ghostplane gig. Ghostplane started off, they do a good pop rock set, and of course everyone fell in love with their bass player, well I know I did. The Chandeliers used a bit to much keyboard for my liking but once they warmed up (and I got to the end of the bottle) I was really enjoying the vibe.

Oh yeah there are real glow worms in the botanical gardens, trippy.

A quick stop back to Rebecca's was followed by another quick stop off at the flat of some totally cool cats but I can't remember their names, they were totally solid by the way, who ever they were. Following that, I vaguely remember a sing-song walking down a hill which was cool.

And then a moment of calm ladies and Gentlemen... Yes that's right, Beer Tower was re-visited.

Beer tower was followed by Karaoke at K-Bar. I must've been rockin cause random Polynesian people I didn't know said clichéd (but welcome) complentary things like "man you sing with passion" - which was weird, cause usually I sing with Guy.

Pete Nichols was quite a blast from the past. He's a fella that flatted with some old friends of mine; I haven't seen him in three years, never kept in contact. So anyway he generously offered to do some landscaping for me - wasn't quite sure what to say to that?

So it was Pete, me and his mate Stu, because Guy, Jann, and Rebecca left me to my own devices. After partying hard for another hour or so I ended up by myself (pretty much), I eventually made it back to Guys house a few hours later at about 7am. What transpired in those few hours however shall never be written down, lets just say I'm a bad bad man, awesome.

On the subject of gratification...

My wrist is really sore, so I'm going to the doctor at 12 tommorow this is how I envision the visit:

Doc: What seems to be the trouble?

Me: Its my wrist, its bung.

Doc: I see (pause) you'll really have to limit the masturbation Ben.

Me: Damn.

[update: I have Tendinitis, crap]

Today I am a happy man...

I was recently dreaming about the perfect everlasting gaze of bullets with butterfly wings under the window paine, Today is the greatest... Yes I have been listening to Smashing Pumpkins.

I have decided that Rocket off Siamese Dream is my favourite song of the moment, the realisation hit me on the taxi home this evening as I had inadvertently hit repeat for the fourth time, its a strangely uplifting song. Maybe I'm weird but grunge music, despite the kate moss-heroine-addicted-image, is really really uplifting. Perhaps its not grunge, but just the early/mid nineties that gives me that uplifting feeling and I'm somehow transported back there by listening to the music of the era.

What so special about that era for me? Well there was a lot going on, I was deeply in the throes of puberty for one, I think I was about 12 or 13 when I first heard the Siamese dream album, so yeah I guess that could be right. Though I don't remember a whole lot of good times puberty-wise... I remember a class at intermediate school about masturbation, that was probably the highlight of the school year, I think I laughed for about three weeks after hearing my poor teacher a year or two out of Teachers College have to teach this class...

some student: So masturbation is like... OK then?

Mr S: haha yeah, well its not going to kill you.

Some student: So do you masturbate then Mr S?

(pause)

Mr S: well... yeah - of course he had to say yes after dispelling rumours that we'd go blind or it would drop off etc.

At this point a whole lot of 12 year old boys burst out laughing and don't stop for seriously three weeks... So glad that I did not go to a Catholic school right now. Though I guess I have to transport myself back in time to find it funny... I wrote "some student" cause I wasn't sure if it was me saying it or not, it sounds like something I would've said however, ha.

Growing up thinking its normal to jack off to your hearts content is the greatest thing school has ever taught me to be honest, now thats freedom mid-west America.

So looking at the psychological trail of thought, listening to a certain type of music makes me feel good cause I associate it with jacking off??

Hey works for me...

Good Evening, today I am happy...

I hope that this actually posts to the blog man... this will be so convenient if it does! the first blog entry sent directly via e-mail alone!

There is no such thing as a free lunch...

Economics himself once told me that…

The theory of supply and demand describes how prices vary as a result of a balance between product availability at each price (supply) and the desires of those with purchasing power at each price (demand).

If I was to supply a product that you need and you could not pay for it because you spent all your money worshiping a false idol you have several options.

Option one – Exercise your choice as a consumer. “Yeah I’m going elsewhere” – Did I mention that its all the same whereever you go? “Well whats option two then?”.

Option two – YOU ARE FUCKED SO DO WHAT I SAY. “But that’s not fair I'm telling God” – don’t start with me buddy, I may aswell be God to you, its not a good idea to piss me off.

Option three – Argue with me until you are red in the face. “Yeah that’s what I’ll do that will get me somewhere” – I told you not to start with me.

Option four – Eventually run out of things to say as your argument hits a brick wall. Realise that you got yourself in to this and it is your own fault, lesson learned? “Fuck you asshole, where’s your christmas spirit?” – I’m not Christian, have a lovely evening Sir, goodbye.

And if you’re still with me you’ll realise that I’m trying to say choose option one even if it hurts, make the world a better place.

All Hail the land of the rising sun!

The Beer Tower… I’ll say it again for good measure… BEER TOWER!!

To understand an invention as truly amazing as the Beer Tower you have to understand that it’s a Japanese invention. Yes that’s right the same nation that brought you other revolutionary inventions such as the Samurai Sword, the Toyota Corolla and the Walkman… but lets be honest there hasn’t been much else to compare, until now!

My friends, I am talking about the Beer Tower. I don’t have a picture as yet, but will endeavour to get one as soon as possible. For now you’ll just have to make do with my description.

The first thing that strikes you with the Beer Tower is its sheer size and perfect cylindrical shape. It stands about a metre tall, is clear glass and all class. Protruding from the side near the bottom is a tap, just like those “on tap” style taps in bars. From this tap pours forth pure gold in the form of Monteiths brand beer, made better by the very fact that you are drinking beer from a veritable shrine. Thats right, All Hail Beer Tower!

My description pales in comparison with the experience of being there so you will just have to try it, nay, experience it for yourself!

There is a little unnamed bar/restaurant in a secret location known only to a sacred few. You’ll know you’re in the right place as you enter the bar itself by the overwhelming sensation that you were brought here by powers greater than yourself, that power my dear friends is the Beer Tower’s super secret mystic power.

Again you will have to experience it for yourself but I’ll do my best to let you the unwary traveller in on as much as I can lest you fall casualty to its awesome awesome-ness!

It all began hundreds of years ago when sailors wrought by months at sea, dehydration and a lack of contact with the fairer sex, were thought to jump overboard believing they were is fact leaping in to the arms of beautiful mermaids.

There was one man, one hardy seamaster that could resist its power, he reported to me before he passed on, among other stories, that the sailors were in fact sailing just off the coast of Japan and they had merely sighted the tall stacks of the greatest and as yet unnamed drinking implement ever created by man, we now know it as The Beer Tower.

Be warned.

Back to work...

It was back to the grind today and it was as busy as your mum. All the corporate monkeys insisted on wishing me a happy new year, it was fun seeing the dejected looks on their faces when they heard my rather lacklustre “Thanks” instead of a cheery “Happy New Year” in return… I love being a cynical bastard!

Speaking of bastards, the wind was blowing like forty of them– as my old man would say. The taxi home barely got above 70km/h on the motorway.

Heres the latest fuck-wit story to come out of work lately:

F-Wit: (In an irate voice) “Hi I just received a call and the caller said they were from the bank, the guy knew everything about my credit card, I just wanted to check if it really was from you guys cause it sounded dodgy” *fair enough I think*

Me: “Sure (I security check him, he passes, I look in to it) yeah it looks like we called you because we were concerned about some out of character transactions on your credit card and it looks like you confirmed that they were your transacti… (he cuts me off)

F-wit: “But how do I know you’re from the bank”

Me: “You called us”

F-Wit: (with a "I'm smarter than you" attitude) “But how do I know if the number I dialled is really the bank?”

Me: “Where did you get the number from?”

F-wit: “Well it’s on my credit card”

(There is silence, as I put him on mute and make a sound like a constipated old man with a low IQ – the corporate monkeys look up and stare)

Me: (overly polite) “Do you have any further questions Sir?”

(Silence)

F-Wit: “Fuck you smart ass” (hangs up)

Well that was quite a bender...

Well... what can I say... Greytown - I came, I saw, I got f-ing wasted!
Greytown was quite a blast really. Some friends and I stayed in a homestay during new years.

Events included the consumption of meat (no we're not gay), the consumption of copious amounts of beer (we are alcoholics though) and frequent visits to a hot tub
(hmm we can’t defend ourselves on that one).

So as you might have guessed, the gathering tended towards the sausage rather than the bread-roll if you know what I mean… around 11.30pm we went in search of said bread-rolls…

A two minute walk to the local revealed that we were the life and soul of that pub and that the women were either skanky, fat, or old…. or a combination of all three – not that there is anything wrong with skanky, but only in the right circumstances of course. Yes I’m being harsh but some scary shit went down in the reputable White Swan (again no we’re not gay). An old woman felt me up, a smiley man in a fantastic Hawaiian shirt felt Stu up and no one felt Guy up – will somebody please feel that man up for the love of god!

There was one cute girl, she was one of the bar staff, and three blind (I think she was cute) drunk men can not impress one attractive, sober, woman that has been on her feet working for sixteen hours, listening to countless lame attempts to impress her.

So herein lays our lame attempt to impress said cute bar chick:
Purpose: To get Guy laid
Strategy: Mention we have a hot tub waiting, thereby convincing her to come back to our pad where Guy can make sweet little bunnies with her.

How it went down:

No one, despite being so drunk we are talking shit non-stop, has the nerve to ask her except me. At which point the White Swan decides to close and the oldest bouncer (who should have been in bed hours ago) kicks us out. I decide to follow thorough with the plan regardless. We walk right past Jerry-actirc who can’t catch us cause we’re men on a mission. I walk right up to the bar and she’s not there. Guy decides to rescue the situation by stealing a lemon from the bar.. Awesome! I’m suddenly on look-out duty, and then with the lemon successfully within the confines of Guys pocket, there she is!

Me: “Hi, I don’t think I’ve wished you a Happy New year yet… so um well Happy New year…”

Bar chick: (smiles, then she looks at me like I have more to say)

Me: So um, my name is Ben by the way we all thought you were the best bartender *I’m such a lamo*

Barchick: Thanks, I’m *can’t remember her name, fuck I’m a lamo, then we shake hands, at least I got to touch her*

Me: …and we were wondering what you were doing after you finish up cause we’re going to a party and there’s a hot tub and… well… you should come…
(Pause)

Barchick: er… (Pause) ok whats your number I’ll text you when I get off

Me: do you have a pen? I’ll write it down *and I’m thinking, how did that work? and can I even hold a pen?*

Then we look around for a Pen of course there isn’t a pen in sight and Jerry has my arm at this point.

Barchick: Wait outside I’ll get a pen…

Halleluiah! Am I on hot-man drugs?

So we wait and I tell the others and then those disbelieving (paul-like) creatures think lets just go… when out she comes with a pen… I’m the man…
So off we go… she turns out to be free with her texts but decides that she is too tired and we’ll meet up tomorrow… when we’ve gone home… crap.

So its just three men in the tub and Guys package decides to look at the stars, cries of “He’s taking his pants off” and “He’s just standing there” wake Daniel up and provide us with copious laughs the next morning… and life is good again…

Peace.