An Aussie in London
The Story So Far...
Moscow and Yuri the Speed Freak (part 1)
After a little more than half a year of living off my limited cunning, some fairly rudimentary maps of South East Asia and an overdeveloped sense of smell, I was almost at the home of my forefathers. The thieving bastards!...
Moscow to London via Amster-god-dam (part 2)
The scene momentarily reminding me that former Soviet Union was still far from all onion domes, vodka for breakfast and panty shots of Anna Kournikova...
Arrival, The Kid, Curry and Pints (part 3)
You can only get so far in London with two hundred quid, a half decent suntan and a vast array of tourist t-shirts, board shorts and anti fungal creams...
Topless Darts (part 4)
Mandy from Manchester and April from Birmingham bounced and wobbled there way through a game of darts. A myriad of mammary, a peek of cheek and a close up of darts plunging the woodwork...
The Hairy Mattress (part 5)
It was a Genetic Scientist's wet dream, a life force of its own, a repository of tales in desperate need of a mouth...
A Dozen Dusky, Nubile Wenches (part 6)
A stick of celery, a large peacock feather, an industrial size vat of hand cream and a touch of masculine courage. You'll be living in, so transport shouldn't pose a problem...
Trains and Traumas (part 7)
Glancing over the tube map, it looked a little like a colourful yet deluded game of snakes and ladders, not a guide to the delights of Ol' London Town...
The Rat Race (part 8)
6.30 p.m. at one of London's busiest stations and the rats were out in force. I was soon to become a rat, I thought...
London Underground (part 9)
Like Wilbur and Orville, I had succeeded in the face of adversity. Unlike the Wright Brothers I never set the bar to high, nothing to be gained by failure...
The Walkabout (part 10)
I'd heard the Walkabout legend long before setting foot on British Soil, of its inebriating ways and its tacky decor...
The Common City Worker and the Smell of Excess (part 11)
Dressed in eight hundred quid suits, with mobile phones plastered to their ear, talking at a level merely decibels lower than an Offspring gig...
Closing Out (part 12)
It's not as if I didn't want to close out, I definitely, wanted to close out. I would have loved to have closed out. I would explode if I didn't soon close out...
Picking Up Chicks (part 13)
The Kid had preemptively dropped a couple of throw away lines at two blondes and a brunette standing in a group next to us. They didn't seem repulsed which was a sign I took to be positive...
Hungover, Unemployed and Searching for the Rainbow (part 14)
Her enthusiasm for life was infectious. Her presence in the room was usually enough to lift everyone's spirits. Today I could of gunned her down in cold blood...
Bathrooms and Barbeques (part 15)
The whole definition of bathroom reeks of water and general wetness, so what sort of sane people would think it wise to lay carpet. The Brits, that's who...
Jaffa (part 16)
I took a seat on the couch, leaving Smokey the Bear to teach the neighborhood kids the dos and don'ts of beer consumption, petroleum and matches...
Dates, Sex and the Mention of Love Eggs (part 17)
Normally I'd just jump the bloke in question so there'd be no need for those awkward little phone calls. It's amazing how pleasantries go out the window when you've shagged a bloke senseles...
Men and Motors (part 18)
We had an imprecise plan to see a castle, then find a pub with a nice B&B in some small Welsh village that served cold beer and was owned by some freak with a neck lump or basic facial disfigurement...
Stonehenge (part 19)
Some of the larger blocks are estimated to weigh in at over 25 tons and are believed to have been transported from a quarry in the Prescelly Mountains some 200 miles from here...
Motorway Service Stations (part 20)
I like the Welsh. They're a very patriotic bunch who love their rugby and love to sing. They're good at singing...
Caerphilly Castle, Wales (part 21)
Caerphilly Castle is a big mother of structure set on thirty acres, eight miles north of Cardiff. It is the largest of all the Welsh castles and second in size only to Windsor Castle in Britain...
Robots of Death (part 22)
How many people can say they've climbed Mount Fuji? How many people can say they've drank snakes' blood in Thailand and eaten Guinea Pig in Peru?...
Robots of Death Again (part 23)
When you are born, on exactly the other side of the world, at exactly the same moment, your personal robot of death is born...
Brecon Beacons, Wales (part 24)
Brecon really is a handsome little place, albeit far from pulsating. I'm hip to that. A lot of aging gray stone buildings, neat little lanes, charming market squares and an indescribable feeling of space...
Shepherd's Pie and Rugby (part 25)
Besides slicing animal carcasses into tasty bite size chunks, Mick, it seemed, spent most of his waking hours talking rugby...
Tuning Out (part 26)
It's a special knack I developed in Taxation Law tutorials and fine tuned working in real estate...
Mission Impossible (part 27)
With a hell of a lot of fuss and humming the theme tune from Mission Impossible we made our secret escape...
Hay on Wye, Wales (part 28)
Made up of a tangled grid of no more than a dozen streets, Hay-on-Wye was an irresistible little village that oozed country charm...
Happy Place (part 29)
I pulled my Mexican hat down over my eyes and visualised a happy place. A place where nudity was optional for men and Cuba Libres spouted forth from small ice chilled fountains...
A Clean House (part 30)
Washing didn't hang off every serviceable protuberance and the miscellaneous alp of shit that lived in the corner of the dining room had disappeared...
The Leatherhead Job (part 31)
Monday morning was depressingly grey. I'd slept until noon and woke to that paranoid feeling I get whenever I've snoozed late and have things I should be doing...
I've Seen the Light (part 32)
Kinda like that scene in Blues Brothers where Jake sees the light in Church but with a lot less of the Gospel overtones and no James Brown for background noise and no dancing, that I could make out anyway...
Beer, Cider, Chatting Chicks and Work (part 33)
Later that day, after a stint in the library and with my personal affairs taking on some semblance of order, I shared a beer with the boys at the local. Mondays are always good for admin...
The Dreaded Call (part 34)
It was like some perverted episode of perfect match to them. Waiting, listening, does he get the dream date, prawn fishing off the coast of Southend, or will she go with number three?...
Webmaster (part 35)
Now correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that title just reek of self-importance...
British Detective Series (part 36)
Yeah, I was married once, Deirdre her name was, simple, innocent, loving Deirdre. Deirdre, with a face like the first day of spring. Deirdre, with eyes like the darkest outback opal. Deirdre, with tits like a photo finish in a zeppelin race...
Pound Shops (part 37)
So you can imagine my bulging satisfaction when I saunter out with a fly swatter that plays Walk Like An Egyptian by the Bangles and 140 heavy duty black plastic garbage bags. All for two quid. Bitchin!...
Interview Number Two (part 38)
It says here under hobbies you enjoy confusing bouncers Paul, Bill stated, or possibly questioned...
Early Morning Rum and the Smell of Fear (part 39)
But for the petite Thai Lady boy who decided to join me in my courage enhancing, vodka downing binge at Singapore's Changi Airport earlier that same year, I can only pray you regained full function of your body's vital organs...
My Flying Nirvana (part 40)
We're talking thousands of people congregating for one reason and one reason alone. To get totally shed-faced on the amber nectar, to celebrate beer and everything beery...
Naomi and Cooked Guinea Pig (part 41)
Cooked Guinea Pig. I wasn't sure whether to be disgusted or impressed, I settled somewhere around disgustedly impressed...
Snipers and Statistics (part 42)
You should try drinking heaps of spirits, works for me, I said in a wise, wise tone...
Playing it by Ear (part 43)
I remember dog paddling for five hours in a monsoon through the streets of Kunming in China, clutching my guidebook like a life preserver while all the time praying to Hostelius - the God of budget accommodation - for suitable lodgings...
Simon the Pilot (part 44)
Often, even now, he'd wake at night sweating profusely screaming HAWES at the top of his lungs; the cause of many a failed new relationship, although he'd never admit it...
Pre-flight Ritual (part 45)
Barf Bag, check, Bacardi and Coke, check, slightly interesting yet mostly fluffy in-flight magazine, check, amusing crash landing scenario card, check, a resident of Prague, Czech...
Finding Accommodation in Munich............belatedly (part 46)
1986. European Vacation. Chevy Chase. Most memorable scene?' I asked the Kid in dizzy staccato, sipping something called a Tahoe Tomakaze whilst ripping 720's on my black and chrome swivel stool....
