Friday, November 12, 2004
Rant of the Day:-
1) Sorry, John Prescott again.
For the 4 days that Dear Tony was in hospital with his fluttering heart (guilty conscience?) that total arse was technically in charge of the country - the man punches a mulleted welsh baffoon for throwing an egg, lets scale that up shall we, say for example the Russian leader asks him to shift his chair slightly at a summit meeting, will Prescott fire nukes cos he thinks he's been called fat.
I think the thing I find most offensive is this embarrassing 'gritty northern bloke, I speak as find' bollocks. Sold out any heartfelt political beliefs for a bit of power and a couple of jags, and now tries to compensate by trying to give the north east a ridiculously expensive assembly it doesnt want and trying to regionalise the country even more and create resentment. No talk of a south west or south east assembly was there? we're lucky he didnt try and nuke us while Tony was away.
Hideous scenario. John Prescott and Linda Barker have a kid. It doesn't have a name it has a number. I think anyone who hath understanding will reckon that number.
I apologize for any blasphemy.
2) The expression 'Prime Minister Blair'. STOP IT NOW. He can't get any further up his own arse or there won't be any room for Peter Mandleson.
3) The sadness I feel for the 49% of right thinking Americans that have to put up with the missing link for another 4 years. We're all selfishly worrying about the rest of the world, what about those poor sods.
Song Lyric of the Day:-
We're just a shadow of the people we should be
Like a garden in the forest that the world will never see
When you have no thought of answers only questions to be filled
Then it feels like hell
(Big Country - Just a Shadow)
Gibber of the Day:-
The Kiwi Diaries - Part Two. Ohakuna, more large fruit, 11 dollar - no harness, Dan the table dancer.
Friday - to Ohakuna.
We didn't think a tremendous amount of the place, well I didn't anyway, I strongly suspect that the wee laddie had taken us on a 4 hour detour 'by accident' simply to see the larget plastic carrot in Austarlasia. Just a big plastic carrot, no explanation why, no 'guide for visitors', well maintained and painted though to be fair. Stop me now. We tried to do the Tangurara crossing but it was closed cos of the weather, and we were somewhat peturbed by talk of ice axes and proper equipment as the bloke at the hostel pointed stared at Tom's trainers and my battered stealies.
We decided to move on to Turangi, on the way pausing to take pictures of Tom playing his guitar on his sofa - now removed from Bertie the van with amassive gert mountain as the backdrop.
Kiwi's - Lovely people, absoloutely insane drivers.
Turangi, beautiful place but pretty dull. Could only find one pub and it was a bit pants, as it was also the bookies and fast food joint. Cheap booze though. I may have upset the Valkyrie-esk proportioned barlady by asking if there was anywhere else open.
We did get to have a go at the climbing wall though - hence '11 dollar - no harness'. There was much libleous merryment - ask Tom or I at a suitable time.
Saturday - Tangararu crossing still shut.Went for a little walk around a big lake in the rain. Then we stopped for a beer at a smartish roadside bar, obviously used to the ski trade. Tom managed to seriously upset the landlord by parking Bertie diagonally in the centre of the car park - I blame this for what was to come.
I ordered booze for me and a coke for Tom, foolishly thinking the landlord had forgiven us cos of my winning 'I'm a thick Englishman you Kiwi's are great' performance. I also decide to have a bowl of Broth, the barman sneers elegantly, Tom politely declines food. The broth arrives - what would you expect? myself, I was expecting perhaps a dark brown scotch broth type affair, you know, miniscule bits of beef, big lumps of carrot and spud, nothing exciting, but warming and wholesome. What I recieved - trawler dredgings, it was seriously grim, a representative of every bottom feeding species in the southern seas, served in a thin dysentry of gruel. I feel sure that some of these vermin of the oceans were new species and should have been offered first to Her Majesty the Queen as Head of State.There were two small whole squid things that I'm not sure were dead, what Tom described as 'Octopuss ring-pieces' and other things with more legs and eyes than could possiby be neccessary - you wouldn't find stuff like this EVEN in the Irish sea next to Sellafield.
I ate these things with mock relish as the barman and chef looked on smirking. I'm British by God, and wasn't going to show weakness in front of these colonial piss takers. However, I was to terrified to go to the loo for two days in case I was attacked by my own waste.
We got back into Bertie and as soon as we left the car park the waves of Nausea flooded over me, it was touch and go for a couple of hours as the squid fought for the surface.
We ended up in Taupo that night, Ireally liked the place, beautiful place, funnily enough on lake Taupo. We went to a paddy pub that night good food loads (and loads, and loads) of booze. Then moved on to what has to be a finalist in the 'world's worst night club' competition. Awful. But we did meet the really nice guide fellas from Waitomo, Tom didnt recognise one of them cos he had been wearing a woolly hat in Waitomo, this explained, Tom then said "ah, that's not fair, you're in disguise". I may have mentioned we had a lot to drink. Tom then got beaten at pool by Gandalf (or a very close relation). There was dancing on tables, but as Tom said, it was pre-ordained dancing on tables rather than a spontaneous affair, they were dancing tables not drinking ones. we met the girls from 'team number one' - I'm still cringing now, the one who really annoyed Tom announces that she had thought that Tom and I were "Queer". This does not endear her to him further. Tom foolishly goes off to the toilet for 5 minutes and I stupidly and impulsively tempt fate by dancing with 'team number one' on a table. The impulse has worn off, I sit back down feeling vague guilt and shame at my dancing and arm waving baffoonery. All Tom's skills of "Its fine Dan" do not make me feel less foolish. Its not like the Hare you know.
Coming soon - Part Three. Surreal weirdness, near death experiences, the Coromandel peninsula, Return to Blighty.
Got to go now, hope all is well with all
Love and hugs
Dan
1) Sorry, John Prescott again.
For the 4 days that Dear Tony was in hospital with his fluttering heart (guilty conscience?) that total arse was technically in charge of the country - the man punches a mulleted welsh baffoon for throwing an egg, lets scale that up shall we, say for example the Russian leader asks him to shift his chair slightly at a summit meeting, will Prescott fire nukes cos he thinks he's been called fat.
I think the thing I find most offensive is this embarrassing 'gritty northern bloke, I speak as find' bollocks. Sold out any heartfelt political beliefs for a bit of power and a couple of jags, and now tries to compensate by trying to give the north east a ridiculously expensive assembly it doesnt want and trying to regionalise the country even more and create resentment. No talk of a south west or south east assembly was there? we're lucky he didnt try and nuke us while Tony was away.
Hideous scenario. John Prescott and Linda Barker have a kid. It doesn't have a name it has a number. I think anyone who hath understanding will reckon that number.
I apologize for any blasphemy.
2) The expression 'Prime Minister Blair'. STOP IT NOW. He can't get any further up his own arse or there won't be any room for Peter Mandleson.
3) The sadness I feel for the 49% of right thinking Americans that have to put up with the missing link for another 4 years. We're all selfishly worrying about the rest of the world, what about those poor sods.
Song Lyric of the Day:-
We're just a shadow of the people we should be
Like a garden in the forest that the world will never see
When you have no thought of answers only questions to be filled
Then it feels like hell
(Big Country - Just a Shadow)
Gibber of the Day:-
The Kiwi Diaries - Part Two. Ohakuna, more large fruit, 11 dollar - no harness, Dan the table dancer.
Friday - to Ohakuna.
We didn't think a tremendous amount of the place, well I didn't anyway, I strongly suspect that the wee laddie had taken us on a 4 hour detour 'by accident' simply to see the larget plastic carrot in Austarlasia. Just a big plastic carrot, no explanation why, no 'guide for visitors', well maintained and painted though to be fair. Stop me now. We tried to do the Tangurara crossing but it was closed cos of the weather, and we were somewhat peturbed by talk of ice axes and proper equipment as the bloke at the hostel pointed stared at Tom's trainers and my battered stealies.
We decided to move on to Turangi, on the way pausing to take pictures of Tom playing his guitar on his sofa - now removed from Bertie the van with amassive gert mountain as the backdrop.
Kiwi's - Lovely people, absoloutely insane drivers.
Turangi, beautiful place but pretty dull. Could only find one pub and it was a bit pants, as it was also the bookies and fast food joint. Cheap booze though. I may have upset the Valkyrie-esk proportioned barlady by asking if there was anywhere else open.
We did get to have a go at the climbing wall though - hence '11 dollar - no harness'. There was much libleous merryment - ask Tom or I at a suitable time.
Saturday - Tangararu crossing still shut.Went for a little walk around a big lake in the rain. Then we stopped for a beer at a smartish roadside bar, obviously used to the ski trade. Tom managed to seriously upset the landlord by parking Bertie diagonally in the centre of the car park - I blame this for what was to come.
I ordered booze for me and a coke for Tom, foolishly thinking the landlord had forgiven us cos of my winning 'I'm a thick Englishman you Kiwi's are great' performance. I also decide to have a bowl of Broth, the barman sneers elegantly, Tom politely declines food. The broth arrives - what would you expect? myself, I was expecting perhaps a dark brown scotch broth type affair, you know, miniscule bits of beef, big lumps of carrot and spud, nothing exciting, but warming and wholesome. What I recieved - trawler dredgings, it was seriously grim, a representative of every bottom feeding species in the southern seas, served in a thin dysentry of gruel. I feel sure that some of these vermin of the oceans were new species and should have been offered first to Her Majesty the Queen as Head of State.There were two small whole squid things that I'm not sure were dead, what Tom described as 'Octopuss ring-pieces' and other things with more legs and eyes than could possiby be neccessary - you wouldn't find stuff like this EVEN in the Irish sea next to Sellafield.
I ate these things with mock relish as the barman and chef looked on smirking. I'm British by God, and wasn't going to show weakness in front of these colonial piss takers. However, I was to terrified to go to the loo for two days in case I was attacked by my own waste.
We got back into Bertie and as soon as we left the car park the waves of Nausea flooded over me, it was touch and go for a couple of hours as the squid fought for the surface.
We ended up in Taupo that night, Ireally liked the place, beautiful place, funnily enough on lake Taupo. We went to a paddy pub that night good food loads (and loads, and loads) of booze. Then moved on to what has to be a finalist in the 'world's worst night club' competition. Awful. But we did meet the really nice guide fellas from Waitomo, Tom didnt recognise one of them cos he had been wearing a woolly hat in Waitomo, this explained, Tom then said "ah, that's not fair, you're in disguise". I may have mentioned we had a lot to drink. Tom then got beaten at pool by Gandalf (or a very close relation). There was dancing on tables, but as Tom said, it was pre-ordained dancing on tables rather than a spontaneous affair, they were dancing tables not drinking ones. we met the girls from 'team number one' - I'm still cringing now, the one who really annoyed Tom announces that she had thought that Tom and I were "Queer". This does not endear her to him further. Tom foolishly goes off to the toilet for 5 minutes and I stupidly and impulsively tempt fate by dancing with 'team number one' on a table. The impulse has worn off, I sit back down feeling vague guilt and shame at my dancing and arm waving baffoonery. All Tom's skills of "Its fine Dan" do not make me feel less foolish. Its not like the Hare you know.
Coming soon - Part Three. Surreal weirdness, near death experiences, the Coromandel peninsula, Return to Blighty.
Got to go now, hope all is well with all
Love and hugs
Dan
