On the Ground in Ozzieland!

I’m on the ground in Australia, and I’m totally outta my mind! Everything is mad different here, and I think I’m gonna rent out my place back in the States asap so I can go local indefinitely!

First of all, the airline chick who greeted me as I came up the gangway was HELL of tight, and I almost went down on one knee when she clasped her hands and gave me that “G’day! Weyww-k’m tew ausstray-weeyah!” line. She was hella gorgeous, doggs! All blonde hair pulled back real simple into a hot bun, all tanned face, and you could TOTALLY tell what her dad looked like! That’s a neat thing about Australian chicks, although it can be weird at first.

Anyhow, I’m plopped down in the airport computer area now, lookin’ around for limos and hotels and stuff. I didn’t want to plan any of this, in case somethin’ came up, you know. For example, I was gonna give it all up to the airport greeter chick just now, but she went on some kind of break and I got to tell you, when I saw her lame-ass black nurse shoes and uneven-opacity black hose, I actually fell out of love a little bit. I know she just wears ‘em for her function, but damn, if you’re gonna be fine, get a different job. Those shoes hell of put me in a bad Minnesota bedroom, like with a humidifier and a fifty year-old career waitress named Bladge.

BALONEY! I am NOT losin’ interest in Australia already! That was a bogus blip. Looks like I’m bookin’ a room in the Harold Holt Surf-Inn and Lodge...says it’s right on the beach, they got a “highly suggested” toast breakfast ‘til noon each day...alright, not too swank, but it’s on some prime water, and I got much designs on breakin’ out the board. Plus, I figure if I get up late enough, I can skip the toast breakfast and sneak past the little guy in the office. I’ll be spendin’ at least forty five minutes gettin’ my hair all tousled in the local manner, especially the first day...that can definitely buy me a ticket past noon. At that point, it’s just a nice leisurely lunch of steaks and crispy cold ones at a local café, and then I’m off to the surf! I am hell of stoked about sittin’ in the sand, crackin’ lagers with some of the local blokes, and pissin’ in areas which are behind large storm wreckage (but still pretty close to the main beach).

Alright, my guy Mr. Hoshi from Hoshi’s Bonzer Limo just texted that he’s outside with the livery vehicle. Just got to make a few stops to pick up a board, some Sex Wax, and some steaks for the hotel room, and he’ll drop me at the Inn. I’m tellin’ you, the air here alone has just got me all kinds of jammed. It is SO not America. I feel like anything can happen! In America, things usually can’t happen, but down here, I get a way different vibe. Maybe it’s because the police cars look like something your cheap uncle would rent in Hawaii.

Seriously, Australia, get decent police cars and a national anthem that didn’t come programmed as the demo on the keyboard. I can help with this. I am at the Harold Holt Surf-Inn and Lodge for the next month, paid in advance.