Fuck my blog is good

Reading over some past entries has been entertaining. A shame I've let it wane. I could be oblivious to it being shit, but the fact it's my life log makes me think it's good.
Whatever... I'm bringing it back with a vengeance!
Be prepared to watch this space...

In the meantime: An introduction to Ivy Brown.
This little lady is the shit!
I met her at her gallery in Meat Packing.
She is friends with Banksy. She knew Leigh Bowery.
She is a fucking power house of great story and adventure and makes a great ice tea too.
I will definitely be interacting with Ms Brown again and she even said she could hook me up with Banksy!
Sweet.

Back in the US of pie

I'm back.
Sydney was glorious.
Had horrendous jetlag. I totally fucked up my non jet lag strategy and got lumped with a week of no sleep. This is what happens when you get 4 seats to yourself. You spread yourself out. You lay down. You make the most of it.
So, the time I was meant to be awake, the last leg of trip, I was fast asleep. When I got back to New York in the afternoon, I screwed up the sleeping pattern for the rest of the week because I'd basically slept for 18 hours and was still on AU time.

Had a couple of other interesting experiences

• The security guy in Australia was fantastic. I had some contraband in my hand luggage- a jar of some chilli paste and he let me take it through. He hid it under my jumper, cleared my bag and told me not to let anyone see because there were cameras and he would get in massive trouble. So awesome a security guy. I'm his biggest fan
• Why did no one tell me you don't have to take your shoes off at security any more? I felt like such a 'tard.
• I flirted and smiled with every security/airport person on the way through except one fucker in L.A. I was basically in transit and there's one guy checking 300 passports and tickets. It's irritating and inefficient. All these disabled people cut in front of me and I'm not impressed. I'm tired and just want to put my shizz down. When it's my turn, I don't even look at the guy, I just wait and he asks for another form of I.D. because my photo isn't clear enough. WHAT?! I've had my passport for 8 years, been around the world, and all of a sudden it isn't good enough for you! It just shows that flirting works.

In the end, I made it and thanks again Qantas for ripping my bags. We're going to have another 6 month saga, so bring it on!

3 countries in a week, a visa and a potential arrest warrant

Things have been pretty whirlwind lately.
I had to fix my visa situation. This was partly due to the fact that people cannot understand my accent and confused A3 (a diplomatic visa, as much as I feel I deserve one, it is not for me) and an E3 (the Australian national visa).
I don't know how many times I have to see "E for egg" until it finally sinks through.
A colleague informed if you are saying "A for ayg" it really won't make an impact.

Canada
So, I went off to freezing Halifax, Nova Scotia, to sort it out. I flew on the tiniest little plane. And Canada was awesome, all the lakes were ice. There was so much snow and it was so quiet.
My E3 was sorted in 2 days. A good deal in comparison to the 15 weeks that the American government promised me. Thanks USCIS but you can keep your 15 weeks.

awesome old cemetery with lots of snow

me freezing my tits off at pretty much the only scenic place in Halifax, the Citadel

a frozen flag. Cold.

Back in the US (S of A)
It was nice to back with some validity. Although it was around now that I found out you can get shot for anything against the patriot act. This country is so screwed up. Any one in any position of authority would rather taze or use a weapon on someone instead of hearing someone out. Good to know it's violence first, talk later.

Puebla, Mexico
Ooh, this little city is pretty cool. And the hotel was awesome, except for the shits who decided to have a party in the bar above my room until 2.30am when I had to get up at 5.30 for the plane.
Things were pretty busy workwise, but we did manage to go to this cute little bar, the Reforma, where these old men were having a jamming session on their harmonicas. It was one of the best bar experiences I have ever had.

My only bad experience, was coming back through customs. Those asswipes think a civilian asking questions are grounds for an arrest! Idiots. I'd like to know when I have an hour to make my flight, why you seek the need to make my life a living hell.
I don't even care if you track me after this post. It's not like I have any intentions other than making my time in customs as fast as it can be. I've already filled out the comment card and you aren't getting a good review!
At least you'll never be able to take away from me the fantastic Puebla experience.

the lobby of La Purificadora

Reforma. Best bar ever

The volcano. I'd love to drop some customs people in the middle of this!

In case you wanted to know how Jews view Christmas

Except I don't know what this crap is about Chinese food.

The simple reason for my existence.

Why does this get funnier the more I watch it??
I don't think I'll ever tire from this baby.
How do I make it my ringtone?

Family Guy - What Really Grinds My Gears

I think it's the way he says "Ffffuck you!" and points at the viewing audience, because he is talking directly to them.
This is probably combined with my issues with the general american population at their inability and lack of sensitivity to so many things.

I crack up EVERY time....oh there it goes, I just did again.

Freak

There is a girl at my office who will not step on the cracks or old bits of petrified chewing gum.
The first time I saw it I asked her if she was trying to miss the cracks and she asked me how I knew?
Well, I knew because she looked like an absolute idiot analysing the floor underneath her feet.
Ever since then, when I see her, I tease her about it. It really isn't normal and I tease her because why not?!
I don't even know her name, she is just crazy cracked cracks girl.

One day she told me it wasn't just the cracks, she almost had this air of validity like this was even more justified. It was also the chewing gum stains on the floor.
Mental case.

I just saw her walk past my office, glance down and place her feet carefully in designated approved areas. I still can't believe the insanity.

Hey you, bitch! You mother fucker!

One weekend, I had a great weekend.
I lost or misplaced my debit card. I have no idea what. I cancelled it straight away. All I had was $30 to get me from Saturday night to Monday morning. I'd write a cheque at the bank on Monday and redeem some cash.

So the saturday night started with me hopping into a cab and paying about a $10 fare. I decided to jump out a bit early. Traffic in NY is a bit of a bitch. I walked maybe 4 blocks.
Getting out of the taxi, my door hit the cab next to me. No scratch, nothing, so I shut the door and left.

2 seconds later this Indian cabbie is screaming at me in his indian accent:
"Hey you! You broke my thing, get back here!"
I just told him nothing was wrong and kept on walking.
"hey bitch, come back here."

Then 5 seconds later, I feel a car sidling up next to me:
"Hey you, you mother fucker. You broke my taxi. Bitch, Stop. Stop!"
I just kept walking. Didn't look, didn't flinch.
He kept going "Hey you bitch, stop. Damn mother fucker, you are a mother fucker!"
I just looked at him with death stare. I couldn't believe he would go nuts over such a non event. I guess it's the New York mentality. You have to protect and ensure the integrity of everything under your control.

After this incident, I was walking down the street, happily thinking I didn't get killed and some doof behind me kicks off my shoe right into the street.
I turned around, said nothing and gave him death stare.
He ran to the street got my shoe and tried to put it back on my foot. That was a little too much. I grabbed my shoe and kept walking.

The other events from that night are pretty uneventful. Some annoying guy was annoying me so since he had given me his iPhone to look at, I emailed his mother saying:
"Mom, I think I'm gay"
The "I think" really gives it the power here. Think about it.

I left wherever I was. Tried to get a cab. Impossible.
Some randoms in a taxi pull up to me and ask if I need a lift. I say I'm only going up 20 blocks, same street and everything. I told them I'd get in if they promised not to rape me. They did and I got home safe and still had $20 to my name.

The next morning at breakfast, I don't know if I was fortunate enough to go through this ordeal. But there was a pube like hair in my eggs so I ended up with a free breakfast.
By sunday night, with $20 still intact, I blew my cash on a bunch of coffees for everyone who had helped me out over the weekend.
Then I went home to nap, content at my busy weekend.

Back from reality

I've taken a break from this virtual world for a bit. NYC is a little bit crazy, time kind of escapes you.
I do have all these blog entries floating around my head involving:

• The time a taxi driver called me a mother fucker
• The time some doof kicked my shoe off on to the street
• The time I lost my debit card and my last $20 lasted me a whole weekend because I kept on getting stuff for free (the above three were all in one weekend)
  
• Photos of my apartment and where I live
• The time I helped Mischa Barton and her dog
  

But, I am amazed at my blog hits. Simply because I have mentioned various pop culture topics such as

• 420 friendly
• How to dress like a slut on halloween
• The famous lindsay lohan crotch picture
• and apparently the search term "women doing shit"

My stats have skyrocketed. I have to do more of this pop culture referencing!

All those other posts, I'll make it my mission to accomplish this week.

My obsession with the freaky is not over

Holy Vishnu!

Look at this kid:


I think this is the most unbelievable genetic mutation I have EVER seen. And I've seen a few.
Beats the shit out of the 3 armed kid.

But the poor girl, she probably can't do much. And it's sad that they say in the article she wouldn't live past her teens if she kept all the limbs.

It turns out all the limbs belong to a parasitic twin with no head!

They are attached at the pelvis, in a mirror image of each other. The other twin has no head.
Freak-y!
Not only that, the girl was born on the celebration day of the four-armed Hindu goddess!
What are the odds?

But there is a nice resemblance:

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