Just this morning I took steps to my first New Zealand gig. It was only the little tiny wee step of writing an e-mail address down of a venue that does open mic nights but a step none the less. I also found out this morning that a comedian friend from Melbourne is doing a show in the New Zealand Comedy Festival at the end of this month and I'm going to make an extra effort to pop down and see him.
But, for today, I thought I would explain the situation myself and my lovely girlfriend Susie (I don't have to be nice to her on here because the bitch doesn't even read my blog but I will be because I love her) have found ourselves in. We flew into Auckland on a Tuesday a few weeks ago, I forget the actual date and I'm far too lazy to look into it. I then started working here the following day. I was told by the guy that hired me that there is a nice little flat above my place of work that we could live in rent free. By the sounds of things, it was all looking rosy.
Before I get into the details, we moved in because it is rent free (who would turn down free accommodation as a backpacker?). But let me just describe the place. I'm working at a campervan rental company which is located on an industrial estate outside of Auckland. There is nowhere within walking distance to buy food from and one of the factories around here must sell burnt pubic hair or something because that's what the area constantly smells like. The place we are actually in is basically a big warehouse with about fifty vans parked inside. And it is understandably dirty. The floor in our "flat" is stained with a non-descript brown substance that doesn't seem to want to be cleaned off. When we arrived, every surface in the room was covered in either dust, cobwebs or dead flies. It's not too much better now to be honest because we're both pretty lazy. The bed is approximately 37 years old and has a distincively different stain from each person that's slept in it. When we get into our respective sides at night, the mattress collapses and we both roll into each other in the centre of the bed. Basically it's not the The Ritz. In fact it's not even a Travelodge.
The other day I spotted a mouse running across our kitchen floor. As a man it's in my DNA code to want to hunt this mouse and exact revenge on it for intruding in my private area, so I went out and bought a couple of mousetraps. I was eagerly anticipating and kind of Tom and Jerry, battle of wits, man vs wild type encounter and strategically placed my mousetraps around the building where I thought mice might go. I was willing to play the waiting game and new it might not happen overnight. The next day I woke up and checked the trap. What I found was a dead little mouse with it's jaws still locked around a big chunk of peanut butter. It was quite sad really. I was disappointed at the fight it had put up.
I scooped it up and chucked it in the wheely bin outside. A fitting end to a noble foe. I have since set more traps up but have only caught one other mouse. Perhaps the concerned wife of the first mouse, who went out in search of her little mousy husband but met a similarly swift end. Who knows.
Anyway, this was just a little update to keep your apetites whetted. Oh and before I forget, I have had 13 views in 11 days since my last post. Which means that, presumably, those 13 people googled "Porn, Vaginas and Penis Pumps". Interesting.
I'll catch up soon.
Sean
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