New years Part 4

Ok this is dragging on too long so I'll just tell you the highlights of the remaining days:

Andrew trying to climb across Eli's roof to get to the neighbours house and falling part way through. It's a two metre drop to the concrete, and his first words are "Oh no my beer!".

Jeff running up to people at New Years and insulting them. They started off as eloquent and as the night wore on it became Jeff running up to people, shouting unintelligibly in their face and giggling hysterically.

Throwing up on someone while they were on the toilet.

Liam climbimg on the roof of a car as it was driving off, then spin kicking it, breaking the break light.

Jeff and Andrew drunkenly arguing for HOURS. They were so loud the neighbours came and complained.

New Years PT 3

The exact mechanics of the finger game elude me, but from what I gathered, we took turns shouting then someone would have to dring a bottle or shot at the end. Andrew was unfortunate enough to lose when the shots were stroh. Twice.

We then moved on to the "I never Game". Before we started we swore we would never repeat what was said that night. It turns out that I'm a douche. I lied. Some of this shit is awesome. For example, someone has had amazing shower sex, watched porn with a member of the opposite sex and had sex in multiple public places. It wasn't any of the guys. I'll leave it at that. I'm sure there was more but in my drunken haze I've forgotten most of it. I need to do a Tucker Max and invest in a portable recorder.

I woke up drunk the next morning. Awesome. Except not at all, there's nothing worse than a daytime hangover. I like mine to be over by around 12pm, not start at 12pm. Needless to say, the majority of the day was spent being quiet and sleeping. Next stop, Eli's house!

TO BE CONTUINUED!

Work in Progress

This is a work in progress, not really sure where it's going nut it's fun to write.

I'm not sure what it is exactly, but whenever I find myself driving thorugh the countryside that dominates the North Island, I feel so...depressed. I think it's becasue it's all the same. Paddock. Depressed looking horse. Paddock. Depressed looking cow. Paddock. One eyed goat furiously mating with a pig. Yet even these mundane sights are a repreive from the urban landscape of the city. At its outskirts lie the dreaded suburbs, each house a replica of the one before, dull lego houses populated by dull adults and their dull, spoiled offspring. The uniformity is terryifying, how people can live in these impersonal boxes is beyond me. Further in we find theskyscrapers, glistening monstrosities that pollute the skyline with harsh lines and angles, rising from the squalor of the street.
Having said this, there is a certain beauty to the filth of city life. The hobo sitting in an alley. The way rain cascades from towering monoliths. The tiny shop tucked beneath skyscrapers that dominate the landscape.

My 21st

Anyone who has been to a 21st in New Zealand will know that trying to remember what happened is impossible. The vast amounts of alcohol consumed make the night a haze a shouting, drinking and falling over, not to mention vomiting every-freaking-where.

I'm not going to detail the whole night because it was a normal 21st, nothing out of the ordinary happened, alcohol was consumed and expelled, things were broken, people fought and a good time had by all. What I'll do instead is describe my Yard Glass experience.

To sum it up in one word: Fuck.

I had 7 beers before the yardie, just to warm me up, and also some food. I regret this DEEPLY. The first few mouthfuls were ok, the next a bit worse until it felt like I was drinking vomit. It had the exact, EXACT, taste of puke. Needless to say, I threw up. After purging my body like a teenage girl, I hazarded a glance at how much I had drunk. It felt like litres. It turned out to be millilitres. I had drunk two beers out of the ten that made up the yardie, and already I felt fucked. This would not end well I thought to myself. The first wave of doubt washed over me. What if I cant do it? What if Jeff was right and I AM a little bitch? No. Fuck that. I am better than this glass, I will finish! I take my stance, ready to destroy it!

2 seconds later, I'm power chucking, spraying the lawn like a high powered vomit-hose. My friends run over to offer advice and give encouragement.

J: IF YOUR NOT PUKING YOUR DRINKING! COME ON FAGGOT!
D: FUCKING HURRY UP PUSSY!
A: YOU SUCK!

With these kind words, I set out again to finish. I get to the bulb at the end before having to puke. I'm almost done! I finish the bowl without throwing up. I can't believe its over. I go to stand and bask in the glory of my achievement, but first I have to expel every millilitre of beer in my body out my nose and mouth. I feel like my face is sweating. I can't hear and the ground is writhing like a snake. I hold the empty glass high as a salute to the gods of alcohol. Tumultuous applause from my peers is the last thing I remember before blissful darkness.

Thank the Lord you only turn 21 once.

New Year, Same Customers

I've been back a t work for six days. Six. Already I feel my will to live being destroyed by ridiculous requests and accusations. I've been accused twice of sabotaging machines. The how or why were not specified, but according to them, I can break myself down and fuse with the interwebs (I wish I was making this up), enter their machine and break it using my techromancer powers. PEOW BIATCH! One customer comes in almost daily and asks for obscure SCSI cards and insists that all the servers are using them lolzz!!1!! I HATE people like this. They don't know anything and will waste HOURS blabbering about random shit you don't care about. I would rather cut off my face and eat it than talk about computers outside of work, or even at work. I don't care if your computer doesn't work. At all. Not one bit. Even if I'm getting paid to do it, if it blows up or breaks or doesn't work in any way, I laugh. I laugh at you and your stupid face and not working computer. And it feels goooood.

Insanity

Computers drive my nuts sometimes. I recently got a new graphics card and Powers supply for my 21st birthday (I'm a geek, fuck you) and, needless to say, it's a motherfucker of a card. So I install it along with the 620W power supply and, surprise, its not working properly. No big deal, I'll update the drivers and do some updates. WRONG. My stupid fucking computer decided that it was too good for updates, I wasn't worthy of a motherfucking all powerful demi-god video card. In laymans terms, it broke. In tech speak, it lost its fucking mind. I have to reinstall windows and lose most of my data ( my precious games NOOOO!).

I fucking HATE computers.

New Years Part 2 - the Dust Room

We were greeted by a very depressing sight. A wet, dust filled room made of concrete. It was cold. It was shit. It was fucking FULL of dust. I hated it. The rain was pouring down and we had nowhere else to stay.We needed alcohol, and fast. We decided to go into Tauranga to get supplies that would keep us warm in that dungeon. The conversation in the car was as follows:

A: What the fuck, we have to stay in the fucking dust room? That place is where demons go to die.
Me: We can just set up the tent inside, it'll be ok.
L: Tent?
A: WHAT THE HELL! You never said we were camping!
Me: Whoops...uh...shit...
A: Nice organising skills. You fail.
Me: Whatever, it'll be fine, we just need some squabs and shit. And loads of beer, the solution to all life's problems.

We stopped at rebel sport where Andrew and I bought deck chairs to sleep on. Trust me, it sounds stupid but I didn't much fancy sleeping in an inch of dust on that mother-fucker of a floor. It was like a concentration camp. The room next to us had a cousin of Steph (the girls whose place we were staying) and all he had was a shitty squab. Fuck that. No room in the house for a blood relative? They make him sleep in the construction site! He was probably a prisoner, some random wanderer that they had picked up and were forcing to work on the house. What chance do we have? Good, amazingly, we managed to stay at the rental property itself, on the floor, but it was warm and carpeted and we were VERY drunk ( a theme that was prevalent the five days we were away).

NEXT TIME: SECRETS AND REVELATIONS!

New Fuckin' Years!

I usually don't do anything for New Years ( mostly because I have nowhere to go ) but this year, well last year, I decided to do something I've always wanted: go to the Mount. The Mount is supposed to be a shangri-la of New Years party's, a shining beacon that all others are judged by. These are the events leading up to and after New Years. (I feel like shit so I'm only going to write this in short paragraphs for now. If you don't like it, I hate you.)

29th January - PT 1

We set off for the mount. The plan is to tent at a house a friend of ours before heading to Eli's on the 30th. Highlights from the trip:

Jeff falling out of the car and drunkenly shouting at people in the Southern Autobahn McDonald's...at eleven in the morning.

Tim declaring that his pancakes are so good, he came when he had the first mouthful.

Upon seeing Elemenop, Jeff flew into a rage and told them to stop having sex with their mothers and write some real music, or die, whichever is easier.

Yes, my friends are douche bags. But they're my douchebags.

The rest of the trip, while long, was uneventful and we were soon at our destination. We arrived in time for it to start pissing with rain, making setting up the tent sound like the worst job ever, aside from a sumo wrestler ass wiper ( what, you don't think they can do it themselves do you? Have you seen how fat those dudes are?). Thankfully the stepfather of our friend offered to let us stay in one of fthe partially completed rooms.

Little did we know we would have to combat, The Dust Room.

CONTINUED