Friends, Family, and People who'd like to be
one of either,
I wanted to give yall all an update on the coolest couple weeks of my life. I've snorkeled with sharks, learned international rules for King's Cup/Ring of Fire, accepted my fate as a ginger, listened to Bear Necessities in 4 languages (simultaneously), cooked and eaten kangaroo, was broke and homeless for 3 days and lastly discovered that the 80s party is not by any means confined to North America. So for the three of you that actually read this entire email, I hope you enjoy it.
Oh, minor detail - no work here. The companies I had "guarantees" with all require Aussie citizenship, and were lethargic about letting me know that. Sweet.
Second, more important minor detail - No one here gives a bakers' shit about Lebron.
Anyway, when I found out work was a no-go, I wanted to go backpacking. I booked a tour with a jump-on-jump-off option. I'd be joining a busfull of people my age on the way up the coast, and we all had different agendas. I was heading to Pinnacles, Kalbarri, Denham, Monkey Mia, Coral Bay, and Karijini, about 4000km round trip. My pictures on facebook tell a better story about all this than I could. And if you've ever heard of any of those places before, congrats - you're more educated than I was when I started. I felt like a 12 year old Mormon volunteering to direct a porno shoot - completely clueless, but giddy with excitement and worried about how I'd explain it to my family.
The Pinnacles are giant penis-shaped rocks that make no sense whatsoever. The result of some millenia-old geological clusterfuck, they poke upwards near a beach 300km north of Perth and serve as proof that God is male. So after a brief stop we continued north and began drinking, and the learning experience really began.
My group was 100% European other than myself and the driver. It was like a giant episode of Chappelle's Show, insofar as all ethnic stereotypes were reinforced. The English whined constantly and accused me of being imperialistic when I nabbed one of their beers, yet relied on me to have their backs when the Germans talked shit during the World Cup; the German girls just couldn't begin to understand sarcasm or light beer; the Finnish girl couldn't give a shit about any of us, and they all loved Canadians. But they could all drink, and two important rules for Kings' were discussed - The "Gecko" rule, wherein every player must plaster themselves against a wall promptly when a ten is drawn, and that you are under no circumstances allowed to grab a drink for only yourself. Several injuries were sustained through gecko-ing: I recommend you play in a padded room if possible.
And yeah, I'm a ginger, apparently. They call them Rangas here - short for orangutan. The prime minister here is one, and her hair color has been the topic of discussion more than the fact that she's also an aetheist, single, Liberal woman. I am not kidding.
Kalbarri and Denham are both awesome little beach-az nowhere towns for nature peeps, and I loved them. I had a borderline religious experience talking to an Aboriginal named Darren by a campfire, but that's tough to explain in an email. I kinda feel like I grew a third ear, or my mouth shrunk, or something weird involving opening my head up in a non-surgical way. The kind of mentally liberating experience that is usually accompanied by Reggae, frozen waffles, red eyes and complaining about the SMU Greek system.
So yeah, kangaroo. The Australians are the only people in the world that regularly kill and eat their national animal. When was the last time you ate Bald Eagle? Rarely, yeah? Well the little shitheads run across the road so often that you pass more dead roo than oncoming cars, so it's not that big of a deal. We grilled up (a proper aussie barbie) at karijini national park, and happiness ensued. It's like bison, or buffalo - sort of gamey, very lean. Noms.
Karijini is old as balls. 3500 million years of erosion and plate techtonics and dinosaurs and black-and-white movies. That's 3 billion years before dinosaurs, and 1 billion before any kind of life. God was in high school and Lambda Chi Alpha had its first openly gay member. When you walk in you get the impression that rules don't apply to this place. It's also 120 by 90km - about 8 times the size of Houston, TX in terms of square footage. Again, the pictures do a better job talking about this than I possibly could.
Coral Bay was where life got interesting. I completely ran out of money, but I wasn't out of fun yet. My 17-hour bus ride home should have left at midnight on Saturday, but my peeps convinced me to stay till Wednesday. Let me reiterate - I had no money, no beer, dirty clothes, no place to sleep, and I had just run out of conditioner. But the lifestyle here made sophomore year in the fratcastle look manic and difficult by comparison. I found a couch to sleep on, skirted the issue of dirty clothes by not wearing shoes, socks, or a shirt during the day, and cleaned the hostel up in exchange for a free cheeseburger every night. I got a sunburn and lost about 9 pounds in 3 days, but I won 60% of the 2v2 volleyball matches, swam with sharks and played pingpong with a kid from the Swedish national team. I'm still not kidding. 3 days of homelessness, then 17 hours on a bus later and I was back in Perth.
This drive is worth a comment - 1400km and we passed 3 little bitty gas-station-and-a-pub towns. This is like going from Boston to Atlanta. Or just 200km longer than the length of the California coast. And running into 3 towns with populations that, when combined, could barely fill up a Camry. The Nothing here is outrageous - the state is more vacuous and empty than the head of any UNT student I've met.
Anyhow, to the three of you that read all of this, I'd love to hear back from yall. I'm in Perth now for the next little bit, until we make a 4-day weekend down south to wine country for awhile. Nothing but good books and workouts and wishing Australian girls could find a way to exercise their faces (the only consistently unattractive body part in this region).
Keep it Classy, America,
Krusty
I wanted to give yall all an update on the coolest couple weeks of my life. I've snorkeled with sharks, learned international rules for King's Cup/Ring of Fire, accepted my fate as a ginger, listened to Bear Necessities in 4 languages (simultaneously), cooked and eaten kangaroo, was broke and homeless for 3 days and lastly discovered that the 80s party is not by any means confined to North America. So for the three of you that actually read this entire email, I hope you enjoy it.
Oh, minor detail - no work here. The companies I had "guarantees" with all require Aussie citizenship, and were lethargic about letting me know that. Sweet.
Second, more important minor detail - No one here gives a bakers' shit about Lebron.
Anyway, when I found out work was a no-go, I wanted to go backpacking. I booked a tour with a jump-on-jump-off option. I'd be joining a busfull of people my age on the way up the coast, and we all had different agendas. I was heading to Pinnacles, Kalbarri, Denham, Monkey Mia, Coral Bay, and Karijini, about 4000km round trip. My pictures on facebook tell a better story about all this than I could. And if you've ever heard of any of those places before, congrats - you're more educated than I was when I started. I felt like a 12 year old Mormon volunteering to direct a porno shoot - completely clueless, but giddy with excitement and worried about how I'd explain it to my family.
The Pinnacles are giant penis-shaped rocks that make no sense whatsoever. The result of some millenia-old geological clusterfuck, they poke upwards near a beach 300km north of Perth and serve as proof that God is male. So after a brief stop we continued north and began drinking, and the learning experience really began.
My group was 100% European other than myself and the driver. It was like a giant episode of Chappelle's Show, insofar as all ethnic stereotypes were reinforced. The English whined constantly and accused me of being imperialistic when I nabbed one of their beers, yet relied on me to have their backs when the Germans talked shit during the World Cup; the German girls just couldn't begin to understand sarcasm or light beer; the Finnish girl couldn't give a shit about any of us, and they all loved Canadians. But they could all drink, and two important rules for Kings' were discussed - The "Gecko" rule, wherein every player must plaster themselves against a wall promptly when a ten is drawn, and that you are under no circumstances allowed to grab a drink for only yourself. Several injuries were sustained through gecko-ing: I recommend you play in a padded room if possible.
And yeah, I'm a ginger, apparently. They call them Rangas here - short for orangutan. The prime minister here is one, and her hair color has been the topic of discussion more than the fact that she's also an aetheist, single, Liberal woman. I am not kidding.
Kalbarri and Denham are both awesome little beach-az nowhere towns for nature peeps, and I loved them. I had a borderline religious experience talking to an Aboriginal named Darren by a campfire, but that's tough to explain in an email. I kinda feel like I grew a third ear, or my mouth shrunk, or something weird involving opening my head up in a non-surgical way. The kind of mentally liberating experience that is usually accompanied by Reggae, frozen waffles, red eyes and complaining about the SMU Greek system.
So yeah, kangaroo. The Australians are the only people in the world that regularly kill and eat their national animal. When was the last time you ate Bald Eagle? Rarely, yeah? Well the little shitheads run across the road so often that you pass more dead roo than oncoming cars, so it's not that big of a deal. We grilled up (a proper aussie barbie) at karijini national park, and happiness ensued. It's like bison, or buffalo - sort of gamey, very lean. Noms.
Karijini is old as balls. 3500 million years of erosion and plate techtonics and dinosaurs and black-and-white movies. That's 3 billion years before dinosaurs, and 1 billion before any kind of life. God was in high school and Lambda Chi Alpha had its first openly gay member. When you walk in you get the impression that rules don't apply to this place. It's also 120 by 90km - about 8 times the size of Houston, TX in terms of square footage. Again, the pictures do a better job talking about this than I possibly could.
Coral Bay was where life got interesting. I completely ran out of money, but I wasn't out of fun yet. My 17-hour bus ride home should have left at midnight on Saturday, but my peeps convinced me to stay till Wednesday. Let me reiterate - I had no money, no beer, dirty clothes, no place to sleep, and I had just run out of conditioner. But the lifestyle here made sophomore year in the fratcastle look manic and difficult by comparison. I found a couch to sleep on, skirted the issue of dirty clothes by not wearing shoes, socks, or a shirt during the day, and cleaned the hostel up in exchange for a free cheeseburger every night. I got a sunburn and lost about 9 pounds in 3 days, but I won 60% of the 2v2 volleyball matches, swam with sharks and played pingpong with a kid from the Swedish national team. I'm still not kidding. 3 days of homelessness, then 17 hours on a bus later and I was back in Perth.
This drive is worth a comment - 1400km and we passed 3 little bitty gas-station-and-a-pub towns. This is like going from Boston to Atlanta. Or just 200km longer than the length of the California coast. And running into 3 towns with populations that, when combined, could barely fill up a Camry. The Nothing here is outrageous - the state is more vacuous and empty than the head of any UNT student I've met.
Anyhow, to the three of you that read all of this, I'd love to hear back from yall. I'm in Perth now for the next little bit, until we make a 4-day weekend down south to wine country for awhile. Nothing but good books and workouts and wishing Australian girls could find a way to exercise their faces (the only consistently unattractive body part in this region).
Keep it Classy, America,
Krusty
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