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Archive for the month “February, 2012”

Today in things Rob has learned, I’m an idiot and college students have too much free time.

Well I’ve been awake since 7 am this morning signing up for and dropping classes and have realized two things:
1) Students out here have entirely too much time on their hands and…
2) I’m a colossal idiot.

Anyways today is orientation week at Sydney University and I’ve now signed up for a full four classes that span over the course of three days. Apparently this is the norm for students out here which raises the question of what the hell do Australians students do all day? The answer,apparently, besides make exorbitant amounts of money (minimum wage out here is $16/hour), is invent ridiculous clubs to join. Today on campus they were holding sign-ups for the clubs (they call them societies here). So out of curiosity I went through some of the tents to see what was offered. There were all your regular clubs you’d see on campus: religious clubs, LGBT clubs, and political clubs. But after that it got ridiculous. There were clubs for literally anything you could ever want to do. I was walking through the sport clubs and there was a sport called underwater scuba hockey. What the hell is underwater hockey? The tagline for the club was, “Nothing is more thriliing, than hockey underwater.” Is that so? Any chance it’s as low scoring as above water hockey, because if it is it can’t really be that thrilling. The chocolate lovers society? Really, how many people don’t like chocolate? That’s like having the oxygen lovers’ society. No shit everyone likes it, but do we really need a society to tell everyone about it? Should I start a club for people who like getting 8 hours of sleep each night? Anyways, while I’m sifting through all these meaningless clubs, I see what has to be the greatest society or club or group or whatever the hell you want to call it ever invented. The beer drinking and music appreciation society. Holy hell. There’s a club for drinking beer and listening to music? A club for listening to music and drinking beer? That’s literally what I spend 75% of my day doing already. If only I could find a club for sitting on my ass and being completely useless, to cover the other 25% of my day I’d be in heaven. What are the club meetings going to consist of though, a bunch of kids sitting around a keg and listening to some shitty indie musicians latest EP? I’m not so sure I’m down for that, but I signed up for it anyways, in the hopes that it would just consist of, you know, drinking beer and listening to actually halfway decent music.

But in other things I learned today, I’m infinitely dumber than anyone you’ve ever met. Seriously. Apparently filling a blog with a bunch of meaningless stories and enough foul language to make a construction workers ears bleed doesn’t actually constitute good writing. Who knew! I talked to a few people today who informed me that not only did my blog make me seem like the single angriest asshole in the world, but that my stories and style of writing really made me seem like an ungrateful dick who hated this country. They suggested I try this new thing called thinking creatively when I write, and maybe use a larger diction than a half-sedated punch-drunk boxer. It was revolutionary. Here I was thinking that cursing once every five words in my blog and generally acting like a complete moron was good writing when in reality it was just me acting like a complete and total jackass. Well damn.

So anyway here’s the start to me trying to write with some amount of creativity and in a style that wouldn’t make my mother and anyone who has ever known me cry tears of embarrassment. And if there was any doubt about this country and how beautiful it is and all the people inside it are:

That’s the beach I live next to. I. Love. This. Country.

Globalization is a bullshit lie AKA America is still the best

I love how when we were coming up in school all our teachers loved to preach to us how everyone in the world is becoming connected and how America no longer is the only superpower in the world. About how every other nation has caught up to us, and we’re no longer the technological leaders we once were and blah blah blah blah blah blah. And then the worst part, is that we started saying this, and all the other nations were sitting there like, “”Hey maybe we really are catching up on these guys.” Next thing you know it’s like were playing in a international March Madness. We got countries like goddamn Bali thinking they’re Northern Iowa and we’re Kansas and they can actually beat us. Next thing you know these countries are just dripping with swagger. I’m getting off the plane in Australia and I have got tour guides sitting there and telling me, “You know we’re actually more technologically progressive than America. We’re the world leader in telecommunication technology and alternative energy sources. We had video conferencing years before you.” Bull. Fucking. Shit. We’re not Kansas, and you’re not Northern Iowa. And you know what, even if you were, there’s a reason Northern Iowa will never have any banners hanging in there gym. Because they’re Northern fucking Iowa. We’re the biggest and the best and the clock will always strike twelve on Cinderella. And you know what happens to cinderella when that clock hits twelve? She goes back to being an ugly fucking maid that’s what. And we still got all those beautiful banners hanging in our rafters while they’re scrubbing dusty floors. So spare me your faux pas confidence Australia and for that matter any other country. We’re America and we run shit. I’ve been in this country for three weeks and you know what I’ve seen? Bullshit cell phone services that charge seven cents a minute and a country that’s never heard of credit card machines. Tell me how you can be a technological leader when I go to buy a goddamn sandwich at the local coffee shop and they tell me there’s a twenty dollar minimum on credit cards? Oh, how convenient, I wanted a sandwich, but now I guess I want four fucking sandwiches and a coffee. This country needs to learn a thing or two about respecting it’s superiors. Technological leader my ass. You guys can keep your koalas and kangaroos and all you’re beautiful beaches and your fit lifestyles, and I’ll take my 24-hour Mcdonalds and fat-ass population because you know what? Those Mcdonalds will always accept my credit cards and the fatasses sitting next to me can talk on their cell phones all day long without having to take out a second mortgage to do it.

Today in things that piss rob off: people who walk on the streets with their heads down.

Alright listen, I understand when most people are walking on the streets, they aren’t trying to have conversations with everyone or stare at every ugly mug that passes by them, but for christ’s sake I watched a mother fucker walk head first into a telephone pole today. And while it was hilarious it just highlighted a problem. Driving my bike through chinatown today was like a goddamn game of red light, green light. People staring at shoestrings the entire time. Honestly every asian guy I saw looked like his mother just caught him stealing from the cookie jar. It’s like look up motherfucker there’s no reason to be ashamed. Meanwhile I’m playing whack a pedestrian with the front wheel of my bike and it’s taking me an hour to ride a mile and a half. Has nobody’s father ever told them to keep their goddamn chins up? Please I beg anyone, next time anyone sees someone walking with their heads down, or their noses in a cell phone, tell them to step their shit up and watch where the hell they’re going.

War is over, all is right

Finally, after a month and a half straight of doing nothing but drinking and acting like a complete jackass, I’ve decided to take a night off, in anticipation for the beginning of my orientation tomorrow morning at Sydney University. To recap, I started my journey on January 17th, when i decided to take my talents from New Haven to South Beach to join my friends at the University of Miami as they went to class and I went to the on-campus bar. In the time since I’ve spent two weeks sleeping on a military cot, ten days on an old leather couch, and multiple nights passed out on various floors, but there has always been one constant: I have been constantly inebriated. I’m not happy about this, in fact, I’m a little depressed that given any sliver of free time I automatically resort to drinking. Yet streaks are streaks, so I guess I do kinda smile when looking back at the past month plus and all the stupid shit I’ve done. But all streaks have to come to an end, Cal Ripken had to take a day off, and I guess I need to as well. So here’s to waking up tomorrow morning not feeling like complete shit, and just taking it easy tonight while watching some shitty five dollar movie I grabbed out of a discount bin at the Sydney Aquarium gift shop (It’s called Freshman Orientation with John Goodman, but honestly, who the fuck cares)

Goodnight folks.

 

Nobody in this fucking country knows where anything else in this fucking country is.

So I just got back from biking to the beach. It took me a fucking hour and a half to go 5 kilometers. That’s just more than three miles. A fucking quadriplegic in a snowstorm could bike 5 kilometers in under an hour and a half. The goddamn concierge at our goddamn apartment complex gives out worse directions than Hellen Keller. He literally made me do a loop that took me to every part of the city that wasn’t the beach. But here’s the thing, this isn’t the first time he’s fucked us with directions. It’s like he has some issue with us, which makes no sense, cause we regularly invite him out to drink with us. The other day we asked him how to get to a bus stop that was maybe 500 yards away from our apartment complex. This motherfucker told me to walk a mile and a half down the road in the opposite direction. And it’s not just our concierge who is launching a crusade against me ever getting anywhere on time, it’s every fucking resident of this country. Granted the only people me and my friends have been asking for directions are hot Australians, who generally to a tee have no fucking clue where they are or what’s going on, but still come on. I guess in the end though the trade off for having a beautiful country and a gorgeous populace is having asshole concierges and a nation of people who are constantly lost.

Welcome to the revolution motherfuckers

Image

 

And that friends, is the beginning of an empire. Bagged. Wine. Furniture. That’s right, I’m talking bagged wine couches, love seats, sofas, and armchairs bitches. My roommate decided it would be a good idea to blow air back into all the 10 dollar bags of wine we finish this semester and turn them into furniture. Boom, revolution has begun. I feel like the native americans using all the parts and bones of the deer they killed for like tools and shit. Except instead of using deer, I’m using boxed wine. It’s the circle of life motherfuckers. Not only are they decently comfortable but with each purchase of boxed wine furniture, you’re making both a fashion and a social statement. You’re saying, “Hey, not only do I love furniture, but I also love drinking like a fifteen year old girl (COLLEGGEEEE!!!!)” So reserve your spot today people because these things are gonna sell like hot cakes and you aren’t gonna wanna be left in the dust when all your friends are casually rocking bag of wine arm chairs, and your sitting on some piece of shit wicker chair.

PS. You’re all welcome. 

This country needs to chill the fuck out

Last night was a monday. As in the first work night of the week. As in, “Oh God I fucking hate mondays, they suck so much, when will the work week be over.” But apparently in Sydney, monday, much like every other day of the week, is just another day for people to get absolutely shitcocked drunk. Me and my friends decided to take down a whole bunch of boxed wine (because who doesn’t like feeling like a fifteen year old girl while they’re drinking) to help offset this country’s ridiculous prices, and walked from my apartment two blocks to a bar called Scubar (hooray for plays on words!) and the line was literally wrapped around the block. On a monday night. So instead of going there because, hey who wants to wait in line for an hour to get into a bar on a monday, my friends and I decided to walk around the corner to a bar called Side Bar, thinking, “Well shit, not every bar in Sydney can be that crowded on a Monday night.” Wrong again. We walk down a flight of stairs into what could only be described as pure fucking mayhem. This bar was on another level, no less than 800 people packed into it, going absolutely insane. I’m talking like some shit you’d see on national geographic, people literally acting like wild animals. So I fight my way through the hoards of people raging to shitty house music and find a standing spot at the bar to try and drown out the repetitive stylings of whatever eurotrash dj is currently assaulting my eardrums. I turn to the bartender and go for my totally original and charming line of, “Give me the cheapest beer you have.” She responds, “Sure, six dollars.” Shit. Well about $40 dollars later I have the verbal charm of a caveman and enough alcohol in my system to anesthetize a rhino so I figure it’s high time to integrate with the locals. So me and my roommate decide to walk around the bar and per his suggestion, “Talk to the first two hot girl we see.” We casually approach two women and my roommate dead pan says, “My buddy here is going to be on an Australian dating show but doesn’t know what to do, any suggestions?” Well it turns out that they were Swedish, and couldn’t give two fucks about Australian dating shows, so they decided to ignore our incredibly well-veiled attempts at hooking up with them. Whatever, I was drunk and everyone knows Australian dating shows are fire so they can fuck themselves.

Anyways the rest of my night went like this until about 3 am when I decided that being blackout drunk on a monday night, besides being recklessly irresponsible, was also akin to making me completely unproductive on tuesday, and seeing as how I still literally have zero food or amenities in my apartment, that would be bad. So I staggered back home, but not before I made a quick stop at McDonalds and got to hear this gem of a question posed to an Australian guy by some American girl:

“So do you guys like, have the same alphabet as us and stuff?”

And that my friends, is why the rest of the world thinks we’re retarded.

A drunk ass college student walks into an airport…

…And that’s the end of the joke, because there’s nothing funny about it at all. I haven’t been able to blog for the past week because I’ve been in Cairns, a tropical paradise in the north of Australia. You see I decided that I’ve been too stressed sitting on my ass and drinking 12 hours a day for the past month at my college in Miami while all my friends were in class, so I treated myself to a trip before my “semester” (read: vacation) in Sydney starts with a trip up there with a bunch of my friends. We arrived last Sunday and were told that the expected lows for the week was 25 degrees (celsius motherfuckers) which is the equivalent of 80 degrees. Well shit, not a bad way to be welcomed to a town. Anyways I won’t waste my time telling you all about how I dove the Great Barrier Reef in 84 degree water or how I bungy jumped in one of the world’s oldest rain forests or even how I white water rafted in those same rain forests. No, that would be boring, and probably just make you hate me more than you already do. No I would like instead to get back to why I wrote this post. Me and the eclectic collection of rampaging alcoholics that I called my friends (read: enablers) decided that drinking enough to put an Irish dockworker into a coma on a daily basis wasn’t enough. No we decided that for our trip back to Sydney we would drink the entire night and just say fuck common sense and go straight to the airport like a group of rambling violently inebriated, semi-coherent retards. Well, wouldn’t you fucking know that there’s a reason they tell you not to get too drunk before a flight. Because the airlines can refuse to let you fly if they feel you’re too drunk to be considered stable. Which they almost did to my friend. You see apparently when you smell like Mickey Rourke after an award ceremony, and can’t stand up straight, the friendly ladies behind the desk aren’t too keen on letting you into a confined space with two hundred other people for three hours. It probably didn’t help that the rest of our group was busy rushing into the airport lobby bathrooms to puke, but hey if they can’t take a joke than fuck em. Anyways after pleading his case my friend was finally allowed onto the plane because they figured, what the hell, who couldn’t use a little in flight entertainment.

Well it’s eight hours later and I think I might jump out of my apartment window. I’ve shit about five times since I got off my flight and not one of them has been solid. It feels like my head wants to fight the rest of my body. But I ain’t dead yet motherfuckers.

Here’s to finally being able to blog with some amount of consistency.

 

 

PS. I got to play with a kangaroo, bitch.

 

Suck it.

What the fuck is going on in my life?

So as some of you know, I’m in Australia. Now while I’m sure many of you are asking why you should give a shit, have patience, and let me explain why I opened with that incredibly obvious statement. I’m telling you all I’m in Australia to highlight an issue. No I’m not talking about the abundance of incredibly beautiful and friendly women (hold muh diiick), or even about the unbearable excess of incredibly fun bars in the city ( there’s 700 within walking distance of my apartment, again, hold my dick), no what I’m bitching about, is the lack of internet in this fucking country. I’m currently sitting with my roommate at a goddamn hungry jack ( burger king in australia) at 2 in the morning getting free wifi internet that’s slower than that shit you first started looking up porn with back in like 2004. I’m talking waiting for pictures of titties to slowly unveil themselves down the screen at a rate of about one one thousandth of a nipple every minute. The kind of internet where if you could download a song in a night and a half, you’d be happy. But the beauty of this country, aside from it’s gorgeous residents, is that it’s internet is shit and you still don’t care. It’s just that beautiful of a place.

This is the face of a winner

 

This is the result of beginning to drink at 3 PM for a 6:30 game and being way too emotionally attached to a team. One hundred percent did the whole wake up at 6am on couch, chug a glass of orange juice, and go back to sleep routine. It feels like I pissed off my brain and now it’s fighting the inside of my skull. Whatever. Point is the Giants won, Tom Brady lost, and Eli tore New England a new asshole, again. Nothing like seeing a quarterback who is possibly retarded beat the posterchild pretty boy of Boston sports. Now cue the motherfucking salsa dancing.

 

 

 

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