The Saga Continues . . .

Hello, it's only me again. Still in Australia, still writing you e mails about stuff you don't care about.

It would appear at first glance that the story couldn't get any better: Police, cartoon style escapes, illegal immigrants and pizza. That's right I'm talking about the Tale of Billy Woo and unbelievably the story takes yet another surreal and bizarre twist.

As I told you a few days ago George and I arrived back in Sydney, and as we were heading down towards Scruffy Murphy's to eat copious amounts of steak we saw a very Billy Woo-esque poster on a lamp post. So we called the number just on the off chance it was them. At this point I must mention that the Oscar for The Worlds Shittest Accent Ever has to be awarded to George for his attempt at being Swedish. Somehow they didn't see through this piss poor attempt at being Scandinavian and arranged to meet us.

Still unsure it was actually Billy Woo and Maggie May(his wife/girlfiend appears to be named after a Rod Stewart song) we decided that rather than be blatantly obvious and stand on the street corner we would try and hide from view. We failed. One can only deduce that they spotted us 'cos less than 1 minute after we'd called them to tell them we'd arrived we got a call back from a man who was quite blatantly James(Billy Woo's Australian name for those of you that are confused) feeding us some bullshit about the current lease not expiring so we wouldn't be unable to move in. Now I guess you're all thinking that this is a story based completely on hear say and speculation and I would have tended to agree with you if I hadn't seen the man with my very own eyes.

Bill and Mags as I've now taken to calling them, went cruising past me in a customised sports car that must have set them back at least $30,000, I really couldn't believe my eyes. Bill was even sporting a very fashionable Burberry jacket, the chav.

In other matters Billy Woo related i.e. Billy Woo the Orange Station Waggon not the Chav landlord. It would appear that we are unable to sell it because it needs a road worthy test doing on it in Queensland. Now there are 2 problems with that 1) it's not in Queensland and 2) it's not roadworthy.

Before we knew this however, we tried to sell it to what we thought was an unsuspecting backpacker. Now this wasn't any ordinary backpacker looking for a cheap car with free fluffy dice (they're still up for grabs if any one wants them, otherwise they're going on E-Bay). For a start she was German, a race known for their insistence on everything being Right (political joke there for all you fascism buffs) secondly she was a lesbian, no big deal I know but when tied with the next bit of info you'll see where I'm going, thirdly and finally she was a mechanic. That's right, the only person that's answered our advert was a MECHANIC!!!!! Not only that but a GERMAN! LESBIAN! MECHANIC!!!!! She didn't buy the car. However, she did ever so kindly point out that there was a hole in the engine, yep that's right kids, we drove 7000kms with a hole in the engine. Apparently that's where all the oil kept mysteriously kept disappearing to.

Unperturbed by such a fact we kept on with our plan to sell the car and by crikey we almost did at a cut down price of $500 until the small matter of transfer papers came up. As Australian law stipulates you need these to sell a car and I've had enough run in's with the Police out here not to bother with another one. Something along those lines that I forgot to tell you about, I got a call from the fraud squad before we left for our roadtrip. I'll tell you all about that when I next see you cos it takes a lot of explaining, even more so than what can be fitted into one of these rambling diatribes I keep insisting on sending you.

So basically the car is unsellable and we've made a tremendous loss of $1500. On the upside I get to keep a number plate as a souvenir, Woo Hoo!

Any-who, I really do promise this is the last e mail I'll send you from out here. Maybe.
Auf Weirdersein,
Rich