You Can't Fire Me, I Quit!

Hey Kids, here's yet another update in the life of the long distance traveler. I don't know quite how I and the people around me manage it but in the space of the week or so that you last heard from me some really rather odd stuff has happened.

Lets start off with perhaps the least surprising of the lot. Short of me being given the responsibility of being a team leader at my new job I did infact manage to receive the sack. A fine feat considering I'd only been at the place a total of 9 days. The reasons for this are numerous. A cocktail of me being really rather shit at telesales, turning up hungover almost everyday - especially the day I got the push where I turned up 3 and half hours late with only 2 hours of the shift left and then preceded to go on a half hour unscheduled lunch break, and making prank phone calls to the customers. To be fair when you've got to call a Mr P. McCartney it's only reasonable behaviour to try and get the titles of as many Beatles songs in to the conversation as possible. I fell down at Yellow Submarine though.

Getting the sack wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't spent the thick end of $200 getting back here to earn extra money. At current count my money making adventure has cost me about $150. Even better than that though, and this is a fact I'm actually quite proud of, the boss that sacked me used to be a journalist for The Sun and The Daily Star, although he didn't sack me using a comedy pun like I expected him to.

Now, if the fact that one of my 2 managers was a former tabloid journalist wasn't bad enough, the story takes a nose-dive (or hits its peak depending on your view point) when I tell you about my other manager. Ben, a friendly chap from the Gold Coast got kicked out of the hostel last night. Not for not paying for his dorm room or getting involved in a fight or something equally reasonable, oh no, he got kicked out for pissing in somebody's suitcase. And I was deemed not good enough to work with these people - I'm a university graduate Godammit! Also, the office I worked in was located directly over a strip club, so every cloud has a silver lining.

In further news, I witnessed perhaps one of the funniest things I have ever seen the other day. Whilst sitting on the first floor balcony at the hostel playing Fuck The Shithead (a new drinking game George and I have devised) and drinking goon I saw a fight break out between an Abo and a white guy. This may not sound that funny but the fact that they appeared to have reached rather impressive levels of intoxication made it so. A one point the white guy got knocked down and was so pissed he couldn't stand up so instead appeared to perform some kind of weird primal breakdancing. That was about the only punch thrown in this 'brawl' they instead both just danced around shadow boxing and somehow ended up in the middle of the cross roads at a 4 way junction before 3 Police cars came screaming up the road and took them both away. It made my week, if only I hadn't broken my camcorder it would have definitely won the 25 quid prize on You've Been Framed.

In other news this week, I have found out numerous things that a didn't know about goon. One that it is sometimes referred to as the Abo's Briefcase or Abo's Handbag depending on the gender of said Aboriginal. Another is that if you've got past the getting it out the box stage and your down to the real dregs blow the bag up and you can get a little more out. Another thing is that if you've got a few unfinished bags that have been lying around for a couple of weeks don't fear you don't need to throw them out. Combine them in the same mug and the disgustingness of each of the individual bags cancel each other out. Hope that helps.

Anyway, I think that's about it for now, there was something else I had to report but I can't for the life in me remember what it was.
Yours Sincerely,
Rich