h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Well - I just logged on for the first time in a while and I noticed it had been 5 weeks since my last entry. Now it's one of these weird time paradoxes cos in some ways it feels like i've been here for an eternity and in other ways... nope, it just feels like I've been here for an eternity (the only thing proving otherwise is the fact that I'm still completely white - eternity down here would have produced some sort of tan, even with my uncoventional (i.e. not going out in the sun) tanning approach.)

I decided to partake of the local customs and "get native" by going out to a beach - finding a small strip of water that would not instantly suck me into the Pacific (they seem to be attracted to small yellow flags for some reason - best not to ask) and then swam out with a large polystyrene board attached to my wrist. Apparently it's some sort of sport - you swim out as far as you can and then get propelled back to the shore in a rather surprisingly fast and vicious manner (as one bloke would attest to... I nearly took his legs clean off). Still - it has to beat sliding down a slope with planks attached to your feet as a source of amusement (still haven't figured that one out - what the hell was the person who invented skiing really thinking about?) I was well coached by an old aquaintance called Paul who showedme how to get out as far as possible by diving under waves as they approached. (He failed to remind me to take the board with me so I ended up swallowing a pint of sea water in surprise when the wave grabbed the still floating board and dragged me back by the wrist for a fifty metres...)

Anyway - heading for safer (well, dryer) activities, I decided to try out the pub life in Sydney. After a few days of looking for pubs, I finally realised that for some reason best known to the Aussies they call them Hotels... During my research (okay, drunken staggering) I came across a very unique little place which possesses a nice eclectic mix of hard stools, comfy furniture, an odd bunch of drunk people (odder than usual) and ritual races on a Monday involving highly trained and bred pedigree crabs (with tasteful numbers TippEx-ed on their backs). That place is called the ScuBar and I'd recommend anyone wanting to meet wild and excitingly demented people to try it! After a bit more research - may even write an Entry on it - it has a strange effect - no matter how hard you try you'll always gravitate back to it. Oh, yeah - and a note to myself - must write an Entry on Twisties - they're a foodstuff (apparently) whose purpose seems to be to completely clog the stomach cavity thus preventing alcohol incduced illness after a heavy night of Illusions and Jugs of New.

Anyhoo, I shall leave this for the moment - I'll end with Exhibit A - an example of the kind of people you can expect to meet in the comfy zone of the ScuBar at any stage during the week (beware - they make look innocent but they guard their couch filled territory with a vengance. But they dance well so we'll let them away with it!)

Til next time...

TWISTIES!!! I was wondering when you would get on to them. A friend of mine in work, Amanda, introduced me to them. At first I thought they were fairly stodgy and unappealing but I kept coming back for more and now I can't get any. Any to spare? Oops it is after lunch I had better get back to work.

Slán