anyway.

the readership of this 'blog' has become rather diverse and eclectic. i've said that, and now i'm going to leave it alone.

anyway. greetings from the worlds largest mall... manila! it is truly a city of beauty (and by beauty i mean the kind of beauty that comes with the 'beautification' walls GMA put up to cover the slums). i would go on but i was just sidetracked by this charming ten year old kid who seemed to be digging for gold in his nutsack. ah manila. oblivious, itchy kids aside, what i can't get my head around is the daily routine of many of manila's upper middle class residents. here, one would most likely fill a day in the life with about 6 hours in a car, 10 hours in a mall, maybe some work (maybe), speaking like a confused american, and more time in malls and cars. not that i'm really one to talk, as i'm currently enjoying the free wifi supplied by the wonderful power plant mall... bastards.

and to all those who care, i'm coming back to sydney on the 28th of december. so yeah, start doing stuff that you normally do when i'm home. yeah.

you may have noticed the posts are getting shorter.

yes, yes they are.

oh hi!

so i have no interwebs right now. and i have to go. so. how is everybody? oh good. i'm well, thanks for asking.
bye now.

ow ow ow ow ow ow wah wah wah wah wah

so i'm in a lot of pain, and this is my blog about nothing. thus, i will now selfishly have a fat cry about how shitty i am right now...
would it kill hostels to invest in pillows that are thicker than around an inch? centric point, barcelona i'm looking at you. after six nights under their lovely roof, and over a week after i checked out, i am half way across the world and still unable to turn my neck to look down at my feet. i have to psych myself to sit up in bed when i wake up, "ugh. ok. so i'm going to have to get up now. shit. ouch. one, two, and threeeaaaooowwwfuuuuuccckkeerrrr." wah wah wah etc.
i suppose i'm pretty lucky that i am in manila right now, as i really don't have to do anything except wallow in pain. but this blog must exist for a reason, and right now, it is solely so i can bitch. so yes reader, go on, "...oh poor david, stuck on holiday, with nothing to do, with back pain. drinking mango shakes, swimming in pools and moping around. tragedy." right? yeah!

speaking of corporations...

the following list comprises the current basketball teams taking part in the professional basketball league in the philippines. i think the masses should know:

Air21 Express
Alaska Aces
Barangay Ginebra Kings
Coca-Cola Tigers
Purefoods Tender Juicy Giants
Rain or Shine Elasto Painters
Red Bull Barako
San Miguel Beermen
Sta. Lucia Realtors
Talk 'N Text Tropang Texters

now i'm sure we're all aware that there are plently of teams that are sponsored by red bull and consequently named "the ____ red bulls." fine, i can accept that. a bull is somewhat intimidating. but i fail to see myself losing sleep thinking about the scary 'texters' or 'painters.' oh well, at least the "Toyota Super Corollas" are now defunct. i don't know how they would've fit 5 cars onto the court anyways. ha. ha. ha.

yes, i'm in manila. no, i don't have anything else to say right now. back pain + public computer = short post.
bam!

ice skates and back pains, sponsored by mcdonalds

so i'm still in london. and yes, i still don't like it. maybe hate was a harsh word, but i haven't been able to turn my neck properly in 2 weeks (thanks centric point hostel beds!), so i was grumpy. but wow, i still don't understand the australian/global praise for london. it is liveable sure. but i can't help but feel a little dead inside whilst walking through baker street and seeing mcdonalds next to costa coffee, next to kfc, next to burger king, next to starbucks and across the road pizza hut, next to subway, pret a manger, next to me considering throwing myself in front of a car (ok way to harsh).
but for my last day in london, i have decided to go ice skating. hopefully when i fall flat on my ass in front of hundreds of hyde park skaters, i will dislodge the massive knot in my back and neck and will love london forever and ever, hallelujah hallelujah.
now wish me luck finding food that isn't a massive evil chain franchise.

i don't wanna runaway, but i don't want to stay home.

hello. my name is david novak, and once upon a time, i wrote a blog about something or other. and now i'm back! in pog form!
so a quick, boring catch up (as i try to ignore the thousands of people in my hostel's common room and the strains of rihanna blabbering on about some umbrella). since our journey to the center of stockholm to discover everything that is clean, friendly and, let's face it, a wee bit bland, we have continued through prague in the czech republic and now find ourselves in "barthelona." prague was beautiful and all that jazz, but i couldn't help but feel a little bit depressed and lazy in the overcast ghost town. it's a two way street, i was lazy and boring and thus hardly saw any sights and sounds and "culture" or whatever; though one could argue that it was the constant gloomy, seemingly time-warped aura of the city that could have spawned this aformentioned laziness and lethargy (although that seems to be a recurring theme in this blog/life). but it was still a good ol time. thanks to several things. and in my current state of sleepiness/laziness/lethargy etc etc etc, i will give up prose for list...

pragalicious:
- our hostel. if you could call it a hostel. it was a converted apartment with only 4 rooms. almost total privacy and cosiness.
- oh those low, low prices! beer - $1.50. gin & tonic - $3.50. coming back with money in your wallet after a night out - priceless.
- red room. this isn't going to make much sense but anyway. we found a tiny bar next to our hostel that was (inexpicably) filled with yanks, had terrible (terribly hilarious) live music every night and in which i became a superstar at sunday night open mic (in front of all three patrons).
- erotic city supermarket. yep.
- farmer's big yum. four types of sausage. four types of bread. potato pancake. two types of cabbage. perfection.

prawful:
- grey, grey, grey, cold, grey.
- where my dogs at?! the streets were all but empty most days, even in the city "centre"
- did i just walk into 1991? it reminds me of all those movies and shows that make fun of the middle east for loving 80s pop music that they only just received recently. blue jeans, denim jackets with confederate flags, mullets.
- americaaaa, fuck no. i don't know how, i don't know why, but it almost seemed like there were more americans in prague than czech people. i'm usually the person going " oh c'mon, there are 300 million of them. of course some will be annoying." but man, i nearly lost it. i mean even on the freaking plane. i stepped off the plane and i could hear the piercing shrill voice of some girl blabbering about "oh robert's great. he works out," over a freaking plane engine roaring.
- "blue jeanssss. baby's got blue jeaannnsss." it's like the czech uniform.
- the realization that everything i touch turns to shit. my mac, my phone, my psp. on the plus side, i realize how pathetically dependant i am on technology.

and now i find myself in spain. the sun has made me feel better, fresher (although the genius yank on our plane was way off: "oh we're totally going to a hotter climate now." uh no honey, it's like 10 degrees. it's called autumn and winter). but i can't help but feel exhausted when i think of the remaining 12 flights i have. i could use a vacation, a 5 days working week at home.

phew. now, comments por favor!

lagom

it's late and i'm tired, wah wah wah. but one of my fellow travelers just made the most profound observation i've heard in a long while. and to quote jason nevins: it goes a lil something like this: as far as we have noticed, there are no souvenir shops in stockholm. if i had a nickel (or five kronor) for everytime i saw an "i love london" shirt, i'd be drunk off 10 dollar beers right now. and as much as i loved dublin, as soon as you pass temple bar, you are met with a massive temple bar store filled with everything temple bar, from temple bar mugs to temple bar tampons. but so far, in three days in the center of stockholm, i haven't seen a single propaganda souvenir that one would wear as if to say "hey, look at me, i've been to sweden. it's the bestest country evar! long live stockholm!" and that exemplifies the swedish term which travel guru anthony bourdain introduced me to: lagom. which apparently means not the best, not the worst, just average. which is the way the swedish people live. the porridge is not too hot, or too cold, it's just right. as far as i'm concerned.

tak

everything is better in sweden

well maybe that's a big call, but it certainly seems that way, coming from london. the beer-bellyed, ugg boot wearing, chav sounding girls have turned into skinny, tall, models. mcdonalds and pizza hut (yes we've already been to both. c'mon, it's the cheapest by far.) is the fanciest i've seen. it seems it's customary to eat one's pizza with a fork and knife, and don't you dare eat the crust. oh and i don't know what makes the "miami melt" burger at mcdonalds so miami-inspired (it's just beef, cheese, lettuce and bread), but it's a work of culinary art. still, i did just spend around 12 dollars on a guinness.

speaking of which, we have been to dublin since i last posted on this blog (which has probably lost all [if any] of it's readers since then). it was loverly. big enough of a city to be a legitimate city, and small enough to be quaint. and i know stereotypes are usually just that, totally generalised stereotypes, but as soon as we arrived, we saw a man getting his faced kicked in by some dudes. and after dinner, we walked straight into a massive brawl, with all the blood, bouncers and 'garda' (celtic police) you could ask for. damn irish, with their fighting juice. and don't believe the hype, the guinness tour was the most overrated part of our time there. albeit, it was the best guinness i've ever had. dublin is offensively expensive at times though. hence why we could be found at gourmet burger kitchen more often than not.

and speaking of burgers, let me go on a tangent for a while, because i can. it seems the quarter pounder is not copywrited by ronald mcdonald. for we've noticed it (or a bastardised version at least) being sold at just about every dirty independent burger or kebab joint in london and dublin. be it tennessee chicken, cottage chicken, supermac's, happy harry's or the variety of king's cross hell holes, they'll have a nasty ass quarter pounder. get your shit together ronald and start suing! where's your american spirit! live the american dream and sue the shit out of your 'competitors' who don't stand a chance in the first place, and run them out of business. and you call yourself a monopoly. tsk tsk.

another american thing i've noticed is that they are EVERYWHERE. as i type, i'm sitting next to two yanks trying to book a bus ride to oslo because they missed they're flight. probably because they forgot they were travelling because they thought they were in the usa because of all the yanks everywhere. i mean tonight, we went to an irish pub (ONLY because we wanted to watch the premier league matches i swear) and were stuck next to some american girl. i walked out of the pub and the first thing i heard was some chick blabbering something in american. dublin, london, stockholm, oklahoma. we should all be voting for the election, it seems everywhere is america now. case in point, the offensive amount of chain restaurants, pubs, fast food joints in london. i could believe that australia was the apparently the fattest country in the world per capita over the states. but now, seeing how popular maccas, kfc, burger king, etc etc etc is in london, i am absolutely gobsmacked that the UK doesn't beat australia as well! take baker street station in london, for instance. i was on the bus from stansted back to london, half asleep. i didnt know where we were, and as soon as i opened my eyes, i was met with a line of mcdonalds, starbucks, kfc, pret a manger (a god awful chain of 'fresh food' stores that are EVERYWHERE in london) and costa coffee (seriously) right next to each other across the station. and as i sighed, i knew i was back in london.

so no, i have seen no signs of starbucks in stockholm (besides 'wayne's coffee') who i swear have stolen starbucks' font. the mcdonalds supply is the most limited i've seen thus far, and i think a burger king is the only other 'evil' (i say that with love because i'm a mad hypocrit) corporation that i've noticed. not that i'm going to let that stop me from slowly killing myself with terrible food, i do intend to guzzle down a local delicacy which apparently consists of a hot dog stuffed in a tortilla thing, filled with potatoes and other killer foods. now that's good eatin!

if you've gotten this far without getting hungry, or losing all respect for me, 'tak!' (thanks, just about the only swedish word i know).

ah-ooooooo werewolves of londonnn.

"YOU'RE SHIIIIT! ... YOU'RE SHIIIT!!!"
ah a night out in london town. that was what some crazy lady was screaming while walking in slow motion down a street in covent garden. covent garden, not even a sketchy part of town. for you see, there are crazies EVERYWHERE in london. i mean i was expecting crazies in places like new york and stuff. and there were hardly any in new york. the ones you did get in new york were 'haha' funny. but the crazies here are just plain scary and annoying. walking around in london sometimes feels like some orwellian dystopia. robot-like people shoving others down, trying to make the train in the tube (which runs like every 2 minutes! wtf is the rush?!), crazy people screaming about how fucked up the world is (like this old lady who interrupted my mcflurry session in maccas by blabbering on about how "no democrat has eva won da US election!"), and depressing housing commission-looking buildings under a gray, rainy sky. i feel after i turn the corner, i'll see the ministry of truth and i'll get kidnapped and brainwashed for thinking anti big brother thoughts. it's kinda fun though, because i don't have to live here. and my bafflement (not a real word) concerning aussies who bail on australia only to come to it's gloomy cousin england has just been further established after seeing what they're in for. don't get me wrong, it's a quirky and vibrant place at times. but it just seems to me that if you are looking to get away from australia and try something new, england is the LAST place to go.

but for a few travelling faux aussies, just dropping by on our way to friendlier places, it's an interesting pit stop. and continuing our ironic tendency to see australian/kiwi (chuss) bands abroad (xavier rudd in new york, mercy arms last week), we were lucky enough to catch old favorite cut off your hands at a tiny pub around the corner from our hostel. they were awesome, so much fun energy. actually, i shall post proof of it on facebook now.

ta ta!

young folks

i write this from the depths of a foot jungle. to my left: the feet of a frenchman who has obviously been running in dirt or the like. and to my right: the tiny feet of some girl who's stuffed her tiny chucks in her cubby hole above her head. i hate feet. but i digress, again...
tonight we were treated to a fabulous dinner at the home of my old friend dmitri's girlfriend marjan. roasted chicken, potatoes, salad and wine: perfect. it felt like one of the more grown up things i've ever partaken in. a very civilised night of quiet drinking, reminiscing and discussion. and after having a reflective conversation regarding life, careers and future plans with an international congregation of peers, i feel a lot less restless and more at peace with my own respective concerns. and i don't care how many museums, bridges or monumental feats of mankind i see on my international trip, it will probably be nights like this, filled with nothing significant except a pleasant meal and discussion, that resonate at the end of it all...
but we did also go to tate modern today, which was rather interesting. they had a surprising collection of roy lichtenstein pieces which were pretty amazing. not to mention the collection of videos showing naked dudes hitting themselves and other disturbing acts of self-degredation. so yeah, the whole spectrum of awesome to not so awesome. and it was all free. win!

i don't understand london though. it seems like a massive town to me, rather than a bustling urban metropolis with millions of inhabitants. after coming from massive cities like new york, it's weird seeing no skyscrapers and not really knowing where the city starts and ends. there are little enclaves everywhere with pubs, clubs, offices, shops and sites to see. i'm used to it being country --> suburbs --> city. but all i've seen here is (seemingly) a town. granted, i've only been here for a few days and i'm sure i have no idea what's going on. but there's no question that london is not built like sydney, or new york. not that there's anything wrong with that.

oh and the pies are great.

freshen your drink, guv'na?

first up, a correction: ladyhawke is a kiwi. thanks chuss, you pedantic bastard.
so the exchange rate is currently 1 AUD to .38 GBP. and 1 AUD to .66 USD. 66 cents. jesus. had i heeded my boss' advice when he told me in may or june to buy travellers cheques when it was 1 AUD to .98 USD, and probably way better GBP exchange rates, i would be running around my hostel in a homemade US dollar robe lighting cigars with $100 bills, laughing like a mad man. but i'm an idiot, and wall st's a bitch (or whatever the british equivalent of that is. let's call it moneypudding road). so now i'm off to spend a good $20 on black heart guts pudding pie or whatever it is i'm supposed to eat here.
cheerio then.

london calling...

i am currently sitting in a converted london courtroom that now houses backpackers. it's pretty rad. i am in desperate need of a shower and a toothbrush. but first things first...
i find london depressing. i realize it's the same gloomy weather in antwerp and paris, but i realized why it's different here. it's because everything is in english and similar to australia, somewhat. thus it feels like a dirty, cloudy version of oz. which is still pretty rad, but weird. at least in belgium and france everything is foreign and it feels like you're in a different land. here, it's just confusingly familiar. and it doesn't help that we're going to watch two australian bands at a gig tonight. again, not that there's anything wrong with that.
anyway, the communal unisex showers are calling. *shudder*

"i'll have a coffee" "beer?" "C... O..." "B... E..."

beer
chocolate
waffles
rain
...and that pretty much does it for belgium.
but to be honest i could stay here for months. in our deluxe 5 bedroom house with free wifi. not to mention having my second family as hosts. rad.
however, the damn euro is killing me. i sound like an old man when i mumble "1 euro 60 for a waffle?!?! iiii remember when we used francs and it was 50 francs! kids these days with they're euros..." oh and, a 15 minute cab for over 30 euros? that's offensive.
anywho, i'm too relaxed to think of anything else right now. and it's actually sunny outside, so we should probably head out and do tourist-ish stuff, by which i mean go outside.
godverdomme!

il coûte combien!?!

so i'm sitting in the bar at my parisian hostel, and i just saw what was perhaps the most cliche thing i've seen during my 5 or so days in paris. a couple finish their coffees, stroll towards the bridge over the quai de seine, and make out for a minute or so. yep, definately in paris. well, about 20 minutes out from where all the important stuff is, but still paris... and it wasn't easy to get here.
so here is the long version of how we got here:
- wake up in queens, packed and ready to go.
- walk to subway stop
- take subway to penn station
- take train to newark
- transfer to airtrain to terminal
- get off at terminal B
- head to check in
- my compainion suddenly and randomly falls ill
- at check in desk, we're told my ticket isn't booked
- head to service desk, finally sort out ticket change (that was made like 4 months ago)
- head back to check in, told we can't fly with one of us sick, are given two hours to get our shit together
- board plane after a tense recovery in newark intl bathrooms.
- find out we're not sitting together
- 7 hour flight next to group of german/russians who wont.shut.up + constant turbulence
- get train from heathrow to london at 8am
- finally contact cousin and drop stuff off at her house
- eat KFC
- frantically find somewhere to print bus tix to paris
- board bus to paris from shithole bus terminal at 4pm
- bus to dover 3 hours
- ferry to calais 2 hours
- bus to "paris" 3 hours
- get off at galleni, take metro to real paris after finding atm ("cash machiiiine")
- enter dodgy ass hostel and greet the family of mosquitoes living there.

yeah, sucked. BUT it's fine. i'm in no position to complain. a certain someone else is, however. being violently ill and having to do all that. ouch. props to that.

annnywho. paris is lovely and all that...

the louvre is the BIGGEST f'n museum ever. and i learned something today: i like art... modern art. a million or so paintings featuring jesus, mary and some dude riding a horse to heaven, where millions of flying babies are waving flags and shining yellow light down to earth is not for me. yes, yes, i don't understand, i'm an idiot, totally uncultured and whatnot. but you can't say that one can walk throughout the whole louvre without thinking "man, it's either jesus, or a portrait of some rich aristocrat." having said that, the egyptian, greek, african, etc artifacts and collections were pretty amazing. seeing a 2000+ year old mummy is surreal... oh, and the mona lisa. i have nothing to say about it. because it's just a freaking painting. get over it. take your photo where you stand next to it and put your thumbs up or point to it, and go check out the millions of other more interesting things on offer... the outside of the louvre is possibly even more amazing than what's on the inside. it's massive. it's crazy. yeah.
and i saw l'arc de triomphe and the tour eiffel. but i'm too tired and bored to think of anything interesting to say about them. so in summary, it was a beautiful day in a beautiful city, but 4 euro for a coke is insanity.... frogs.

paris better be worth it...

so it's 330am and derek and i have been up for hours trying to frantically book our european leg. yes, yes, i know "bla bla bla you should've booked ahead bla bla". it's kind of hard to think a week ahead when you dont know what you're doing tomorrow. anyway. we finally booked one good hostel for two days and one potentially traumatic "hotel" for three days. i'm sure it'll be fine. but daaamn paris is expensive. had we booked ahead, we'd still be paying way more than we are paying for this fine establishment in new york...
speaking of which, yes, we're still in new york. and yes, i still like new york. but yes, i am getting sick of america. i don't know if my opinion is being swayed by homesickness, but i definately am sick of many an american thing. nevertheless, i have enjoyed myself, and to keep everyone abreast of what's been going on, here is a list of stuff that makes overseas life worth living:
- we saw bloc party for free at a secret show (seeing the massive american crowd sing along to "why can't you be, more european?!" was one of the more ironic things i've seen)
- we saw sunset rubdown play at a sick venue in brooklyn
- i swear i saw carlos d (bassist for interpol) walking down the street after shopping at crate and barrel. after following him down the street and losing him, derek and i shall never know for sure.
- we met some interesting locals. the less said about that, the better.
- i've eaten enough crap to make myself contemplate vegetarianism, and i loves me my meat.
- i've seen the view from the top (of rockerfeller center), and it's a lot less annoying up there.
and it's 3:50 am, so f this, i'm out.

out in the street, they call it muurrrderrr.

the man you see above is one jerome cancel. he murdered a pace uni student 5 blocks from our hostel, a day before we arrived in new york. we stumbled across him screaming at reporters while he was escorted away from the police precinct across the road from our hostel.

http://www.nypost.com/seven/09022008/news/regionalnews/man_confesses_to_pace_students_death_127162.htm

aaaaaaaanyway...
speaking of meaning to do stuff. i totally meant to spill all that booze shown in the two videos below. i knew vegas wasn't ready for me.

i suppose i should upload as much video as i can while i can. so here we go:

on a cold (because of the aircon) and dark las vegas night, two men named derek and david left for new york, on some airline called airtran (luxury all the way).


once in new york, these men saw four young lads from canada, who go by the name of tokyo police club, play at the mercury lounge.


they also saw a mr.roger federer teach a young man from luxembourg how to play tennis.


and i'm sick of waiting for videos to upload, so that'll do for now.

so yes, we're now staying in the cleanest hostel of them all in east village. it's a vibrant and interesting neighborhood. we went out to a couple of pubs last night and scoped out the area. we went to some sports bar first, and if i saw another nfl jersey wearing douche screaming at the top of their lungs in there, i might've done some bad things. so we moved onto a nicer bar in which they insisted on giving everyone outside free shots because it was 'too cold' (even though it was around 27* that day). i think the bartender noticed us sitting inside, feeling a bit left out, so he gave us a shot on the house as well. lovely. although tequila still tests my gag reflex to this day. i don't know where i'm going with this story, but there you go. that's what we did last night.
oh and we're staying in a dorm room with 4 others guys. two of which are a father and son duo. their wife and daughter are in a female room. so whoever i reading this has to promise me: smack me upside the head when i take my family to stay in a youth hostel in new york city... i'm off to get some adapters and perhaps a corndog or burger from a vending machine...

ps - yes, that stuff in that sandwich is meat. yes it is utterly, utterly delicious. and considering that i'm considering getting a burger from a vending machine, it's a whole lot more healthy than the other crap on offer in this country. holy hell, that reminds me. i'm going to have to extend this 'ps' as i just remembered our trip to a place called minado the other night...
we were at my aunt's place in queens. hungry as hell (we'd spent the past three hours watching 'burger paradise,' 'steak paradise,' and the start of 'deep fried paradise' on the travel channel. anyways, they took us to long island, to eat at a japanese buffet. that's right, japanese buffet. two words that should never, ever, ever be used together. don't get me wrong, i love my buffets. and i loves me some japanese food. but it just feels like japanese food is the kind of thing that should be savoured in small, civilized doses. anyway, this place was frightening and exciting at the same time. $30 gets you as much sushi, sashimi and hot japanese food as you want. i hadn't noticed an obese person in new york... until i stepped into minado. they were the happiest fat people in the world, shovelling sushi and crab legs into their faces. oh, except the angry mountain of a woman who was shouting at the kitchen, "ARE THERE GUNNA BE MOAR GREEN TEA CHEESECAKES?!?!" scary. anyway, the portions were frightening, the decor was tacky, the hot food was decent but not in any way japanese (tokyo fried rice? wtf is that. by adding tokyo to the front, you don't make it japanese), the sashimi was terrible, the price was right and i had a gay old time. but i digress...

pps - thanks for reading! i miss you all.

you want video?

hesitant kid orders "ice cream" from ghetto van then runs away:





novak spills beer during a match, practice for grand spill at Harrah's Las Vegas:





aftermath of the Harrah's incident:

not lenny's!

lenny's sandwiches are the best sandwiches in the world. or on the upper west side at least...

flashing liiiiightsss.. dun dundundun dundundun...

i've spent the last half hour or so trying to load this page so i gotta make this quick before i lose this connection again. oh there it goes. hopefully by the end of this post, i'll get it back. bastards, trying to steal my stolen internets.
anyways. i'm kind of drunk right now. the flashing lights of times square and jagerbombs have left me in a wonderful state. whats more, i have the wonderful (most likely brief) experience of having a 10 person dorm room for derek and myself. god knows what kind of slobbering brits, danes, soviets or whatever, will stumble in tomorrow morning, waking me up from my loner dorm dream. but whatever, this means i'm free to roam all ten beds, trying to get a wireless net signal. i'm currently on bed 2 with 3/4 bars from "Cloumbus West 83rd". so i am exceptionally thankful for that subpar speller and hit subpar net skillz. (im in ur hostelz steelin ur interwebs!). oo! four bars!
and for anyone who's keeping score, today i consumed two gray's papaya hot dogs. and they were delicious. as well as a fellow called ray's pizza, at about 1am. but the pizza had some form of leaf on it. i think it was basil. so that totally makes it healthy.
tomorrow we're going to frollick with the dinosaurs in the museum of natural history. rawr.

that's some serious gourmet shit!

i've been meaning to upload many videos to this blog. some rad, some not so rad. but since the stolen internet connection at this hostel is a sack of poop, i am unable to at this moment.
however, expect to soon see various gems including: murderer escorted from police station, david novak spilling gin and tonic all over a blackjack table, roger federer whooping ass, tokyo police club live in new york, and more! and all for the low low price of three easy payments of $0.00...

oh and thank you braslin and eric for the pep talk, confirming that people indeed read my mindless international rambling.

speaking of which...

i got up at 2pm today. i don't know what the hell is up with my body clock. seeing as i was getting up at ridiculously late hours in australia, i figured going to the other side of the world would help me get up at reasonable hours. oh well. tomorrow i plan to make the most of the day and busk shit up in central park. maybe. if it's not raining. and i get up. ugh...

my eating regime is farked as well. but in a super awesome way. for instance, today's menu was as follows:
- goldfish
- pizza
- jamba juice
- chipotle burrito
- beer
- donut
- beer

my stomach hates me, but i love me.

"ATTN GUESTS: PLEASE PUT TOILET PAPER IN THE TRASH AND NOT IN THE TOILET!"

... so reads the sign above the toilet in our new upper west side hostel. which leaves me wondering, "so if one does a #2, you want them to put their used paper in the bin? hmmm..." but i digress. this hostel has air-con, which just makes me want to gleefully run nakedly around the place. words can't describe how gross it felt to be in our chelsea hostel without aircon, in 30* heat and underneath a big smelly norwegian. but it's all good now. it could piss down with rain for eternity (like it did all day today) or soar to 40*, and i wouldn't care, as i now have air-con, A/C, air conditioning. muy bueno!

oh and about the aforementioned rain. worst day ever to decide to purchase a guitar. i knew it was going to rain. it said it in the weather forecast all week. and yet, as soon as i saw it wasn't raining when i got up this morning, i decided to buy one. and still went through with it even after being drenched head to slippers on the way to guitar center. meh, it's dry now.

also, it has occurred to me that the readership of this blog is most likely zero. but whatever, it's still good to vent about the smelly norwegian.

"it smells like bigfoot's dick!"

i was happy. totally content. i had just brought my macbook back to our hostel and had found a free wireless net connection to steal. nothing could ruin this moment... except the random guy who just stumbled into my damn hostel room at 3am, bringing with him the worst. smell. ever. no seriously, i can't breathe. death by bunkbed. that is going to be my demise. i seriously thought the bunk would collapse onto me when he climbed on top of the bunk above me. and now i'm supposed to sleep under this massive ominous lump of stinky backpacker grossness.
shit.

on the plus side, we got us open tix and we're seeing roger, feddy cent, federer play tomorrow... if i make it through the night.

ps - http://www.wnbc.com/news/17357814/detail.html?dl=mainclick this happened 5 blocks away from our hostel. and the cop station is across the road from us. i have video of the murderer screaming at the media. will post later. crazy.

springfield, springfieldddd!

new york is that much better than california. that much better.
i have done nothing but sleep and walk since i've been here, but i can still honestly say that i like it that much more. i don't know what it is. maybe it's the bum on the street corner, or the tattoo-covered lesbians at the cafe, or the fact that i haven't gotten the shifty eye from anyone for wearing a "man-purse."

and it's so nice to be out of vegas. although i do wish there were more wheel of fortune slot machines around the place here. oh well. i'll just have to blow my money on something else, most likely hot dogs, or pizza.

i do miss australia though. namely, my bed. our hostel is pretty good, considering it's a hostel in the middle of manhattan. but we're on the stinking hot top floor and have to share bunk beds with two randoms. but whatever, it's sweet.

well my net time is running out so all i can think of to add in summary is: east coast good, west coast bad.

word.

shut up and let me go!

i hate the ting tings. and that mother F'ing song has been blasting from outside the las vegas fashion show mall all F'n weekend. one day i will kill that singer woman. and i won't go to jail. because the ting tings suck...

so we're in an apple store. waiting to hit the airport and leave the gosh darn west coast for new yawk. holy shit i'm ready to leave the gosh darn west coast. it's great, just not for too long.

so in summary:

- i lost around $350

- blackjack is the devil's tool

- mexican food is the devil's butt's tool

- vegas boob is nasty boob, but it's still boob

- fake new york is the best thing on the strip. what does that make real new york? i'm about to find out.

- we are officially pimps after staying at the gold plated trump hotel.

- cab drivers paid for us to get into strip clubs all night. and gave us free drinks.

- strip clubs give an equal amount of depressing and awesome.

awesome.

chicken? waffles?

chicken.and.waffles. yes, fried-fucking-chicken and muthafuckin' waffles together at last.

...someone kill me. please.

las vegas, you're fired!

mexican food is the devil's creation. at first thought it proposes a wealth of happiness and satisfaction; what you don't know is that agreeing to it's terms is basically agreeing to spend an eternity (or atleast a couple of hours) in hell.

so yesterday we made the trip down to see Ems in her cute little college town of San Diego. we arrived at 6 or 7pm and decided that dinner was on the agenda, and after a quick brainstorming session we were off to El Torito mexican restaurant. oh how that was a bad move.

now don't get me wrong the food was good, the atmosphere was nice and the company was fun, however it seems that with mexican food specifically your stomach tends to deceive you into thinking you're still hungry even after 2 baskets of complimentary chips & salsa, some kind of entree "sampler" of nachos, buffalo wings, quesadillas etc. and a main of two tacos & a cheese filled enchilada. throw in a margarita and you're in for a very unhappy ending. and that's exactly what i got. hell, the mere thought of mexican makes my stomach cringe with fear. and i didn't even have the "Macho Combo", which i think its safe to say definitely got the better of one David Novak.

After a nice relaxing day at the beach today i was able to work on a nice little tan (not) and recover from the horrors of last night. What a nice little getaway to San Diego it turned out to be.

Next stop: Las Vegas. Where better to spend 2 days in Sin City than the 5-star Trump Tower, central to Vegas' most popular casinos. On Friday night we'll be gambling our savings away to the tune of free booze, endless shrimp cocktails and sleazy wedding bells in what should prove to be a fitting segway to the hustle & bustle of New York New York. Granted i don't leave everything at the blackjack table. its Vegas baby!

bye for now

best. ad. ever.

american ads are terrible. we all know that. they are like twice as loud as the tv show you're watching and most of them make those aussie "FIVE BUCKS! AT LOWES!" ads look like masterpieces. and because of the 8 million testimonials from joe schmuck and jane dumbass in every ad, it feels like i meet more american people on the television than i do outdoors in the real world. there's the aforementioned jeremiah, who caught a 3lb. trout with his pocket fisherman

$20... and no booze.

ok. i was expecting to be the embarrassed douchebag getting turned away from geisha bar (some wanky bar where important people with amazing cars go, or some bullshit. they probably play akon and chris brown). and yes, we did get turned away from the exclusive bar, even after the pep talk we gave ourselves before approaching the bar (ok, so we'll just cruise in and slip the bouncer a $20 and it'll be sweet). fine, that's expected, and hilarious. and i did expect to have to pay $10 to get into some random bar that felt like a sausagefest in asiatown...
but then, after we had the genius idea to hit a strip club, BAM! we're asked for $10 cover charge and told we have to spend $10 on soft drinks. what kind of a world parades naked ladies around and doesn't sell the devil's juice? boobs are nothing without jaeger...
yes, i'm a classy man. but still, that is a bit ridiculous, n'est-ce pas?

still, it was interesting going out in LA. even when "going out" isn't what i thought it was around here. apparently bars close at like 2am at the very latest. and i felt really cool and hip (like those kids in the laguna OC beach hills) talking about how us supercool sydney kids dance to chris brown and akon til about 4am or even sunrise. but then i just realize that everyone here lives with like 10 other mates and just get drunk at home and play beerpong all night. so whatever, beerpong, world bar. potayto potaatoe.

...as heard on radio usa

if i hear viva la vida by coldplay again i'm going to kill someone.

so, obviously, radio is a bigger monster in les estados unidos than in australia. there are loads of stations, the are loads of genres, and there are about 5 rock artists played on rock stations. any time we get in our badass chevy cobalt rent-a-car, we will hear either:
coldplay
chili peppers
coldplay
modest mouse
incubus
the offspring
or coldplay
but yeah, it's not like that's a bad collection, except the offspring. new offspring makes me want to punch babies. ugh, actually scratch that first note. i'll take viva la vida anytime, because if i hear that damn offspring song again, i will do unspeakable things behind the wheel.

san diego is a wonderful place.
that is all.

in and/or round her mouth

walking (driving, no one walks) around california is like living in superbad. convenience stores, liquor stores, strip malls, malls, buses, strip malls... that's pretty much all there is to it. it reminds me of those planned communities outside sydney where all the houses are the same and everything is creepily pristine. and i fucking hate strip malls. they are everything that is wrong with the world. driving around long beach is like walking around an outdoor mall. it's like if someone took warringah mall and made it a hundred times bigger and put a couple of houses in between. and there are enough car park spots in each strip mall to fit every car i've ever seen in my entire life. anyone who wants to walk or take public transport or bike around california, will find out that it's near impossible to do so.

every other ad on television is about buying a car with a good MPG (miles per gallon) rating and how great saving gas is, and i love stepping outside and getting a face-ful of fuck off SUVs and houses on wheels and hummers that look like they just ate my toyota camry for breakfast. oh and i particularly enjoy the dude on the radio shouting at radio listeners to stop "complaining about gas prices rising. just get a car with a good MPG rating and stop gossiping about gas prices like it was a hollywood celebrity." yes, the gas crisis is my fault and the way to solve it to get an SUV with a slighty better MPG than the camry eating hummer. bam! crisis resolved! freaking genius!

things i've learned in the USA

1. thou shalt not speak to the bus driver.
so, in australia, you board the bus, tell the driver where you're going and pay accordingly. what i failed to realize is that in americatown, there is only one price for a trip, regardless of destination. and i looked quite the fool when i walked on the bus declaring:
"los cerritos please!"
"um, yeah?"
"so, we're going to los cerritos"
"ok, yes. i go to town center then los cerritos"
"um, ok. so how much is it to get there"
"90c."
"i just put in a dollar"
"it's 90c"
"oh um, is that ok?"
"no, it's 90c"
"oh... um..."
and so on and so forth...

2. tote bags are 'totally gay'
one of the perks of shitkicking at FBi radio is that i got free FBi tote bags. and i use my tote bag all the time; it's free, it's small and it's free. but apparently it's a 'man purse' in amuricuh. i was told to buy a backpack. apparently a $30-something schoolboy bag makes your balls grow and anything free is totally gay...

3. some americans don't quite get the difference between homosexuals and british people
despite warnings, i used my totally gay tote bag today. and the snappy combination of said tote bag and some fake ray-bans provoked some redneck with car trouble to shout out "OHHH BEEEHAAAAVVEEE" at us. after a few minutes of deliberation, i figured he was implying that we were gay. but hey, austin powers, gay people. potayto, potaato.

4. olympic coverage is retarded in every country
i hate channel 7's coverage of beijing. i don't want 'team usa vs. some token poor shitty basketball playing country' to be cut for fucking australian equestrian. no one likes to watch horses walk. not even horses like it. they hate themselves for doing it... but i soon realized it's the same shit here. yes, nastia liukin got screwed out of gold. yes, it was a tie. no, i don't want to see 2 hours of straight analysis. and no one wants to watch the american women's field hockey team play spain for 7th place. seeing as a lot of those lovely hockey players look like horses, i might as well be watching aussie equestrian. and come to think of it, it was the same with the brits when i got BBC in belgium. except for those damn flags on every porch outside, i'm all for people loving their country, but equestrian and 7th place playoffs is crossing the line. show me medals, or at least give me someone's face into a hurdle in the steeplechase.


--Update--
Things I haven't learned about the USA
by Derek Bogart

How is it possible that Australia has (apparently) overtaken the US as the fattest nation in the world when my main options for food are:
a) Donuts, donuts, donuts.
b) Nacho cheese covered Hot Dogs/French Fries
c) 5 Chilli Dogs for $5
d) Burger King's new Cheesy Bacon Tendercrisp
(http://www.bk.com/#menu=2,83,-1)
e) see previous post.

... gotta love this place, now where's my jumbo pack of beef jerky?

americuh, fuck yeah.

i hate america. well, i love america. but it will give you heart disease in 2 days. and nobody needs that many refills. jesus christ...

i can't even think about typing right now because this big screen tv is blasting an infomercial about how jerimiah caught a 3lb. trout with his pocket fisherman! only 3 easy payments of 29.95! oh wait, now it's telling me to buy enzyte, a tablet for 'natural male enhancement.' i'm guessing that means it makes your willy bigger... ah, finally. back to godzilla vs. the smog monster. just one of the quality movies on the 800+ channels.

a more proactive person would be out doing stuff, but fuck it, i'm on vacation. and we've already been to walmart, what else is there to see? now where are my pop tarts?

so long suckers!

sydney airport sucks a fat monkey sack.
eagle boys pizza? wtf is that?!
shit.

the real beginning?

the beginning - take two:

Waallllll EEEEEEEEEEeeeee

"WWWAaaaaallll EEEeeeee!"