Australian Trivia

Every Tuesday night, one of the bars in Newcastle, Finnegan's, has trivia. This is done with a big screen TV and each table counts as a team. I have gone every time, as has my housemate Phil, so I was the team writer, and he was team captain. PHIL went to CAIRNS this week, so I had to take over as captain, which essentially means nothing. Except that it becomes my team, and I get the credit for our score this week. Anyway, back to the basics of trivia. The host, Annabelle, passes out these booklets where we put our answers, and a category sheet. The categories are always random, and your team picks 2 categories that the points are doubled for before any of the rounds start. There are 8 rounds, but we always skip round 4, so we always tear round 4 out of the book and do something random with it. This week, we were supposed to make something 'useful' with our paper. This is lame to me because usually, they let us be completely creative. Once, I made an entire 3D model of a camping scene with a tent, campfire, logs, and a sleeping man. I didn't win. I lost to a cootie-catcher. WTF?

Anyway, as soon as they said make something 'useful', it's due in round 7, I thought 'Spoon'. I'm retarded. Round one starts and it's a video task where they showed a bunch of commercials, and then asked 10 questions about them... kind of a memory task. I thought ahead and wrote furiously about each commercial, and we got most of these answers right. I won't go into each round, but I will tell you about how my paper spoon was going. The handle was really stiff, but the bowl part of the spoon was limp. I turned it in with our team name on it-- Operation Intoxication. By the way, we're the only people in this crowded bar who are drinking to get drunk. Also, I should point out that when we don't have a clue for an answer, as team writer, it is my job to come up with something hilarious to write. Some of my famous answers have been: for an action: 'Lick My Taint', for a person: 'Iva Hugh Gehtwaht' and last night's answer (which Annabelle laughed and read out loud) for a band: Lonny Greene and the 'Giant Discharging Vagina'.

We doubled our categories of TV/Cinema, and Science Nature & the Human Body. These were awesome categories for us. and this time we had an Australian on our team, which means we'd be able to answer the Sports & Games category, which seems to be in Trivia EVERY FUCKING TIME. All the questions are about Rugby, Cricket, or Netball. Sometimes they throw in a baseball question, and we get so excited, we're acting like it's juice time in the special education class. Anyway, round 7 comes along, and it's time for Annabelle to announce who won the 'useful' creation competition. She said "the judges liked this one, it was a utencil (my heart STOPPED), and the winner is: Operation Intoxication!" I stumbled up to the stage and grabbed my bottle of wine: "Cockfighter's Ghost" It might as well been made of gold for the amount that it meant to me. I lost my camping creation to a cootie catcher, but my limp spoon was more useful than anything else? I was in heaven!

Now, we have yet to score above 51 points in trivia. In case you haven't done the math, there are 110 possible points including doubled rounds, and a bonus question worth 10 points. Last night, with me as team captain, team writer, and team designer, we earned 64 points, and 8th place, beating 3 teams. And to any Australian university student who reads this: 64 out of 110 is more than 50% which is a Pass! We passed Australia! I am the American God of Trivia!

Weekend in Sydney with Sydney-ites.

The weekend of May 30th, I decided to visit my friend Nick in Sydney. He lives in the Coogee beach area in an apartment. Coogee is an easy taxi or bus ride away from anywhere in Sydney you’d like to go. (This is what we in da biz call a Setting… I’m an AWESOME writer—3 years of college to thank for this shit.)

So anyway, Friday morning, I pack and walk down to the train station and buy my ticket to Sydney. I’m about 10 minutes early, and the train compartment was completely empty. I pick a seat in the middle of the car, and wait for the ride to begin. It still excites me like I’m five. Anyway, 1 minute before the train is about to depart, an entire classroom of high school aged kids came up and sat all around me. “It’s fine,” I told myself, “At least they aren’t small children.” They were all talking really loudly, and after about 10 minutes I realized that these kids were not normal. There was a girl who was on the phone talking to someone, and all the other kids wanted her to tell the person on the phone that ‘They, themselves, individually, want the person on the phone to know that they love them. This went on for about 35 minutes when what I can only assume was their teacher came over and told them they were being too loud. Then I looked over at one of them. He looked my age, but he was playing with a plastic tank. They were all mentally retarded. And they were with me on my 3 hour journey to Sydney.

…

After the girl hung up her phone, they had started a really loud conversation. I grabbed my iPod and blasted it full, and still, I could hear them. That’s when the best part happened. Over the song “Fuck You” by Lily Allen (It’s my new favorite by the way) I heard the same girl start yelling to one of the boys that he had a wonderful voice and she really wanted him to sing. I would not allow my song to be ruined by this train experience, so I turned off my iPod and braced myself. The boy delayed singing for a few minutes by saying something about not tuning his voice, but then he started singing. It sounded like me or my brother singing in church. Not good, but not embarrassing. But seriously, singing on public transportation?! Oh, retards. You are all crack-ups. I looked at tank-boy again and saw that he was trying to record the guy singing with his phone camera. When he played the recording, it ended up only playing everybody praising this kid on his voice. He was so disappointed that he didn’t see my obvious relief. Finally, 2 hours into the 3 hour ride, the train stopped at their station and they all got off. For some reason, God decided to grant me a little pity.

First time in years.

I arrive in Sydney and bus out to Coogee beach to meet Nick. He informs me of his day and that we are going to get plastered this weekend. We get to his apartment and I meet his roommates Anton and Tyler, and we start making pizza and drinks. We play MarioKart, drink 3 Scotch and Cokes, and eat pizza. When it’s time to leave, Nick and I grab a bottle of wine and Tyler drives the 3 of us to an apartment full of friends of Nick’s. I meet everyone and promptly forget their names. This is cause for drink. Nick and I finish our bottle and socialize. I’m doing my best, but I have no idea what they are talking about. But we were informed that the bar that everyone was going to was exclusive on Friday nights and you had to be on the list to get in. Luckily, 2 of the group were not going to make it, so Nick and I had fake names to give. Right before we left, we took a shot of vodka (without chaser… ugh.) from one of their roommate’s bottles. (She was not present and therefore, relinquished all rights over her alcohol)

Nick, Anton, and I took a taxi to downtown Sydney, but none of us knew where this bar was. We got off in Chinatown because this place was called Chinese Laundry, and that makes some sort of sense. Well, that was wrong. We walked in the direction Anton thought was right and came to a small outdoor bar. There was some sort of birthday celebration going on, and the bar was deserted save for a group of 30 extremely drunk people. Anton and Nick went up to the bartender to ask for directions while I watched the antics of the group. When the bartender left his post to talk to my comrades, 3 girls walked behind the bar and pulled the taps on all the beers and water. They began to drink out of them like a water fountain. The other bartender on duty was cleaning tables, but he looked over and started laughing. I was already in tears of laughter/joy/jealousy. The table-cleaner yelled something over to the direction-giver, and direction-giver turned to the girls and (this is serious) wagged his finger at them and asked them to get on their side of the bar. 2 of the girls did as they were asked, but then 2 different girls took their place, so direction giver walked over to all 3 girls and escorted them to their side. He came back to Nick and Anton and finished his directions and we went on our merry way, with one protest from me:

“Guys, I think I want to stay here forever. I just found out I’m into polygamy. I’ll marry all of those girls.”

We left on the right track to Chinese Laundry. I started getting a nagging worry that I would not get let in with my fake name. It was Nick Britain, but I don’t know if I spelled that name right on here. My worry was I was going to say Nick Britain, and they would ask me to spell my last name because they couldn’t find it right away on the list. Well we got in line, and Nick and Anton got in fine, but the girl in front of me said her name to the list checker woman and gave her ID to the bouncer. The bouncer heard her name and read her license. They were not the same. I said Nick Britain to the check-lister, and she crossed me off just as the bouncer turned to her and complained about this girl in front of me. She ended up getting in anyway, but the bouncer never heard me say Nick Britain, so I got in without a problem.

This bar was pretty huge. It was about 3 levels, and we pretty much danced on the bottom level, chilled on the 2nd level, and ignored the 3rd level. It wasn’t very exciting. HOWEVER, when we were on the dance floor, an Asian came up and asked me a question that I couldn’t hear very well. It sounded like ‘Do you…. Tbat… Give Me?’ I just shrugged my answer and he went away. Than Nick turned to me and asked ‘Did he just ask you for drugs?!’ I thought about it for a second before it hit me. I WAS asked for drugs. Awesome. I look barely older than 15, but I look like that shady type of 15 year old that deals drugs to Asians in bars. Classic.
Eventually, we got bored and took a taxi back to Coogee. There’s a bar there named The Palace that is supposed to be pretty big. By now, I’m practically sober. Pretty much the most I’ve been in about 3 weeks. So imagine my surprise when the bouncer here asks me how many I’ve had. I decided to go with my usual answer, but this time add in a tone of incredulousness.

“Whoa there, how many have you had?”
“Two!”
“You look like you’ve had a bit more than two there, mate.”
“That’s fucking stupid because I’ve seriously only had two.”
“Why don’t you just take it easy in there, and listen to the bouncers.”
“Yea, fine, okay. Under breath: douchebag”

Does the world understand why we do not use the Can’t Be Drunk in Bars rule in America? Massive Riots? Complete desertion of bars? Australia is dumb.

So we get in this bar and I immediately ignore the bouncer’s warning and get a beer. We just kind of chill in this bar. Anton knows a guy and is standing there talking to him, and this guy waves his friends over. His friends immediately give me a hug, and I recognize them. They were on my Spring Break trip! Oh, memories. I chat with them for a while, and another girl from my spring break trip comes up to me, knows me by name. I’ve had about 6 beers in 10 minutes, so I’m having a hard time seeing her face, and she gets extremely offended when I have no idea what her name is. Sorry if you’re reading this, but I’m becoming world famous for drinking and writing, and I don’t have time to remember you when I’m drunk.

When we’re about to leave, Anton leads us downstairs where I meet Sam, one of their close neighbors. Sam, as it turns out, has spent the whole day baking and her roommate refuses to eat anything. Would we like some drunk food? So we may now add Sam to the list of women I will marry legally in Utah. We go back to her place and her roommate is watching 10 Things I Hate About You and seems to be frightened by strangers. We sit and watch with her while Sam pours me a glass of wine and heats up pastries and junk for us to eat. We talk for a while and then Nick, Anton, and I walk back home. Friday Night, done. A side note: My roommates in Newcastle stayed in on Friday Night and played cards. I think we all know who the instigator is in the household, and they best be damn thankful for my existence.

The next day, I went with Nick to the beach to watch him surf. It was a pretty nice day, until about an hour into it, when a really dark cloud rolled in. It started raining and then I saw something strange start happening. About 2 miles off the beach over the ocean, I saw a funnel cloud. Then 2 funnels. Then 3. 2 of them turned into waterspouts (tornados over water), and my heart was beating irregularly. They weren’t heading our way, so I didn’t panic or anything, but I’ve lived in tornado alley for 10+ years, and I’ve never seen one, and I go to Australia and see 2 in one day. Stop MOCKING me, God.

We spent the rest of the day playing Wii Sports, watching Lesbian Vampire Killers, and drinking to Family Guy. After a while, we left for a bar that I never actually learned the name of, but an Australian Accent pronounced it like “Reege”. I met a lot of Nick’s friends, and this bar was a blast. We walked in and bought a beer each, and Nick stopped at this circle of guys and said happy birthday to the one. Then he introduced me to all of them and I immediately forgot their names. Nick left mumbling about something, and I assumed he was going to the bathroom, so I strike up a conversation with a couple of the guys from the group. Then Nick comes over laughing at me saying that I was invited to come with him. This is about the 4th time I’ve not followed Nick when I was supposed to, and you’d think I’d learn just to stop assuming he always has to pee, and just stick with him. Nope. Well, I follow him now, and I meet even more people whose names I forgot immediately, and we sit at this outside table. One of the guys starts talking to me and pauses to refill his drink. Turns out, he brought a bottle of liquor to the bar and is drinking it straight. He offers me a sip and I’m fairly sure it’s vodka. What is it with Australians, vodka, no chaser? Anyway, we stay at this outside table for a while, and kept drinking, and pretty soon, Nick got so drunk, he forgot that I was there. This has happened a few times, and I’m used to making new friends in a pinch. I talk to a few people, but they are less interested in me than they should be, so I tire of their mundane conversation. Time to find where Nick went.

I find him with this girl I’d met earlier, Sara. There were 2 Saras and they were easy to remember, because I’d met one of them before, and they were the only girls. Anyway, they were talking with this other girl and Nick motioned for me to come over. He introduced this girl, who was also from America. I’d had quite a bit to drink, and music was playing, and this girl decided that whispering was her choice of communication for the evening. I spent an agonizing 3 minutes trying to understand what she was saying, and it looked pretty awesome from another viewpoint: I was drunk enough to ignore personal space, so I stuck my head out and positioned my ear in front of her mouth and screamed “WHAT?!” over and over until I heard her sentence, “I’m from Portland, Oregon.” Wow. Worth it. I get sick of this girl and decide to find someone with lungs. I found the other Sara, and we hang out for the remainder of the night, just drinking and watching Nick get completely hammered, and still excel at playing pool. He must have some Jesus in his blood too. It’s about 3:45 by the time we leave the bar. We decide to go to McDonald’s. I immediately go sit down because I hate fast food, and Sara does too, but she loves pancakes. She goes up to the counter at 3:55, and is turned down because they serve breakfast at 4. She sits down at our table and waits the 5 necessary minutes and orders her “hotcakes”. We get a cab back to Nick’s place, and pass out around 4:30.

The next day, Nick slept until about 6 PM, and I read his books all day. Then we met Sara at the movie theater and saw Star Trek. It was good. Iowa is mentioned twice in the movie, and that got Nick and Sara really excited for me.

The day after that, I caught the train back to Newcastle.

Life recently...

We are entering the part of study abroad where we have about 5 weeks left before departure. COINCIDENTALLY, I'm running out of money. This is an issue, because for some reason, God and his sense of humor makes alcohol really expensive. This is pretty much a blog entry about how I deal with that.

First, train tickets cost about $5 a day, and I need to take the train to school. I've recently decided that school is not cool, and I haven't been to campus in awhile. Second, Goon (Boxed wine) is about $17, so I only drink this. It does not taste good. This also means that buying drinks in bars is a luxury of the past. Last night is a perfect example of how I deal with this:

Tammy, Chris M, Jamie, Phil, Cam and I start out the night at home, drinking goon and a playing few drinking games. As we're about to head out the door, I grab a RedBull, chug and we walk to a bar on the dock named Isobar. Chris M buys me a beer, claiming that I've bought him one in the past. I do not remember said beer, but I'm not about to turn it down. We sit at a table on the crowded dock, and drink and talk for a while. The table next to us got up and left. They also left a pink martini that was half full on the table. We decide to get up and go inside, but I had a different plan. I'm broke. I'm an alcoholic. I grab Tammy and we sit at the table both blocking the view of the drink from the bouncers who are looking at us like we're retards. We pretend to be a couple, and Tammy grabs the drink. Then we walk inside and I'm handed a successful free half-cosmo. We sit at this table for about 20 minutes and move on to the next bar. This bar is called the Dockyard and I love it because they wil let you sample any beer you'd like before you buy a glass. I had to pee, so when I was in the bathroom, all my friends already got their drinks, so I had to go up to the bar myself. I went up to the bar, tried every beer, and left them hanging. Yes, that's cheating, but... I'm broke.

I have made it through about one straight week of drinking without spending a cent at the bars. Let's hope my luck keeps running hot like this. I may have a small amount for Ames bars with my return.

Spring Break

Day 0.
Tammy, Lauren H, and I flew to Brisbane, where we were to meet up with our tour group the next morning. We checked into our hostel, and we noticed a large party going on in the bar next door. We check it out, and meet a couple of the guys going on our tour the next morning too. I spend about $50 on drinks, because we couldn’t pre-game. Shit. Anyway, there was this really REALLY drunk girl who was all over the place in this bar. She kept running up to random tables and flashing her boobs like they weren’t no thang. (They really weren’t). Anyway, she kept on going to the dance floor and random drunk guys kept dancing with her and trying to convince her to come up to their room. She denied them all, bless her dancing little heart, and moved on to the next guy. We were all laughing at her expense. She thought she was being a comedian. She flashed her raisins our way. Lauren H said she’d buy me a drink if I’d go up and dance with her. Rule #1 of my life: I do almost anything for a drink. I get up and walk over to her. She’s taking a dance-break to guzzle more of her pink alcohol and I’m distinctly reminded of a horse with a food bag over its mouth. I say ‘would you like to dance with someone who won’t try to rape you?’ She nods and we start dancing for about 2 seconds when I am immediately denied. She turns around to her beverage, and I’m left standing like a fool. Whatever bitch, you are too drunk to remember your own name, and you deny the ONE safe guy in the bar a dance. I HOPE you get raped.

Day 1.
Tam, Lauren H, and I walk over to the bus station where we were supposed to meet our tour, Extreme Adventures. We find them, and everyone piles into the bus for a ride to the Australia Zoo (Home of Steve Irwin). We are not drunk yet… sad. Anyway, we arrive at the zoo, and our tour guide, Mat, said that we probably wouldn’t get to see that fruitcake, Bindi today because it was Easter. Here’s the boring zoo part in a nutshell: I fed an elephant, touched a koala, and tried to crawl inside a kangaroo pouch. Here is the WORST part of the zoo. We went to this completely staged croc feeding show. Steve Irwin’s whole family was there, rehearsed lines and everything. At the beginning, they did it… that’s right… they said my pet peeve: “How are you all doing today?” (Cheering) “That doesn’t sound so great. HOW ARE YOU ALL DOING TODAY?!” (Louder Cheering, and a ‘Fuck you!’ from me) Why does that even exist? Whose day is really that much better the second time you ask that? Anyway, Bindi was a fruitcake, and reciting lines to the same show everyday will not heal the wounds in your heart left by a stingray. Too harsh? Anyway, we get out of the goddamn zoo alive, and take a drive to our hostel to get ready for our booze cruise. On this cruise, we got dinner, and our choice of red or white crappy boxed wine, or one brand of beer with an alcohol content of 3.5%. Whatever, unlimited white wine isn’t so bad. This is where we just mixed and met everyone. I couldn’t remember anyone’s name including the tour guides, so I gave them the super-original nicknames: TG and OTG. (Tour Guide and Other Tour Guide) It’s a wonder people don’t ask me to write more often with my imagination. So TG (later known as Mat) asks me to find the Southern Cross constellation. He asks this condescendingly. I am not a fan of being talked to like that. I point out the correct stars and he challenges me to find the ‘Bedpan’. I said I had no idea what that was, but Orion is over there. He sighed and said that Orion is bedpan in the southern hemisphere, and that I knew shit about fuck. That is a compliment to those of you who can’t translate drunken cursing. Lauren H was there and confirmed my shit fuck knowledge. After the cruise, we went back to our hostel to carry on the party. Our hostel has a pool. And a bar… Recipe for disaster. I have about 6 more drinks and sit at a table with old people! I get to know them well, and they become yet another family. I seriously get their address, phone number, the works. Then someone, probably Tammy wants me to go swimming, so I throw on my suit and jump in. I lose my eye contact. ON THE FIRST DAY. Looks like it’s glasses for the rest of the week. Shit.

Day 2.
My new family serves us breakfast and we get on the bus and head to the Hervey Bay for Fraser Island. It’s one of the world’s only islands made completely of sand. There are ¾ of the world’s lakes made completely of rainwater. They make extraordinary color and clearness. Lake McKenzie was the best. Anyway, we got back to the same hostel, but only for dinner because we were going for an 8 hour bus drive overnight. That was fun.

Day 3.
We arrive in this really beautiful city that I don’t recall the name of. But we passed a restaurant that said Nicole and Keith had eaten there, why shouldn’t we? Haha. We dropped off our crap at a gross hostel and took a 3 day pack with us on our next leg of our journey. We got on 3 speedboats and went to our next place of staying—an island resort on the Whitsunday island: South Molle. We just dropped our packs there because we had a day out planned already. Drinking was encouraged, but only after snorkeling. So we went on these speedboats who kept trying to get everyone wet and throw them out of the boat—ca-razy. We stopped at a spot to snorkel, which was fine. No sharks, or killer whales—lame. We then went to world-famous (like me!) Whitehaven beach, but in case I haven’t mentioned it yet, it’s been raining for the entire trip so far, and this beach did not look as beautiful as promised. But we started drinking as soon as we finished snorkeling so we had a huge Goon (Boxed wine) party in the water. We were drenched anyway. I didn’t do anything crazy, but the tour guides went for it. TG (Mat) whipped out his dick and started peeing on everyone he could, and OTG (Mouse) was being kept busy kicking the shit out of Benny, who kept (stupidly) challenging the tour guides to some sort of tackling match. After a few hours of drinking, we got back on the speedboats, who more successfully tried to fuck with us. Mat (TG)—you likin the switch?—mooned our boat, and Mouse (OTG) decided to one up. He took off his swimsuit, stood on the edge of the boat with his penis tucked in and started screaming at him. Then he jumped in the water and we had to go back for him. When he got back on the boat, he said my personal favorite quote of the trip: ‘My Man-Gyne-Er is tiny.’ We get back to the island and check into our rooms. I start drinking almost immediately. I play the usual drinking games with people and get pretty hammered. I was feeling pretty mischievous and started thinking of stupid shit to do. I decided to go to the beach on the island where there was still a jet ski on the dock, and it was running. What would any self-respecting fool do? I jumped on, intent on stealing it, but I’ve never been on a jet ski before. I had no idea what to do or how to make it ‘go’. I tried a few things and when I finally started it, I went flying off the back. That’s about the time that the island security noticed me and my doings. They started to chase me down, but I ran into the resort area stripped off my shirt and jumped into the hot tub. The guards walked by and asked if I’d seen a kid run through, and struggling to keep my breathing even, I pointed over my shoulder and said ‘that way’. They left me alone and I climbed out, realizing that all my shit was in my pockets. I ran back to my room and dried off everything—it was all working. My phone is a champ. You’d think this would be good enough for me to just chill out and go to bed… but it isn’t. I go back to the bar where Tammy and Lauren H are partying with my new friend Lindsay. I tell them what happened and Lindsay is blown away. How can anyone be so stupid awesome?! Tammy wants to do something crazy too, so we go back to our room, and Lindsay comes when I promise she won’t get raped. Our room was out by the golf course and Tammy gets the idea to grab all the flags on each hole and replace them with each other. I declare this as an awesome plan, and Tammy runs into the bathroom to put on all black clothing. I didn’t pack any clothes that we even remotely dark in color. I settle for wearing my white and black striped t-shirt and a pair of dark blue underwear. I can tell Lindsay is impressed with my body. Tammy and I run out to the closest flag. I grab it and then we start running towards the farthest flag. I’m talking about some sort of nonsense and I say the word ‘twat’. Tammy HATES when I say that, and this was probably the turning point of the night. I’m talking, “and she was probably being a twat, and then…” and Tammy interrupts, “YOU KNOW WHAT?! I HATE IT WHEN YOU SAY TWAT, AND YOU HATE IT WHEN GIRLS POOP, SO GUESS WHAT?!?!!?!” This is when Tammy pulls down her pants and proceeds to take a shit on the golf course. I. Am. Mortified. I run about 20 yards away from Tam and her steaming shit and wait for her to… finish… when suddenly, a giant spotlight gets me right in the face. Security is after me. Again. I drop the flag and start booking it across the golf course. When I get into the rainforest, I hide behind the trees and check out my enemies. There are 6 flashlights out searching across the course. I walk behind the cover of the rainforest until I’m on the far end of the island. When I get there, it seems like I’ve arrived in the Deep South of the USA, cause I’m in this fenced off yard filled with farming equipment, beer bottles, do not enter signs, and a garage playing country music. I hide in here for 15 minutes because my alcohol-aided brain believes that this seems completely safe. Then I run from this hick house back to the resort entrance, and walk calmly to my room.



Day 4.
This was our free day to enjoy the island in any way that we’d like. Tammy and I ironically, go golfing. I avoid the part of the course where she shit like it was the plague. I even skipped that hole. Then we went for a hike up the mountain, and pretty much did the usual tropical island stuff. At this point, I feel like I should mention a very special girl… her name is Lindsay, and she is mentioned in day 3. She was magnetically attracted to me out of everyone in my group. I talked to her—nicely because she was attractive, and I deserve attractive friends. Then that creeper Benny came over and starting hitting on her, and poured half of his drink into her cup. I thought about how sort-of-nice that was when he came down for a kiss and she turned her head so he’d get her cheek. Then he turned around and sat on the other side of the table.

I said, “Well that was intense.”
“Oh my God, who was that?”

“Our resident creep. He’ll personally make you uncomfortable for the rest of your stay, free of charge.”

“Haha, you are hilarious, let’s drink.”

You don’t need to tell me once, so we started playing cards with the group.

That night, we got drunk as usual, and went to the island bar for a dance party and junk. I was feeling a little bad; because there was no way I’d be able to top the stupid things I did last night. So I compensated for drinking extra and getting muddafuckingshittanked. We danced in the bar for a while. Miley Cyrus came on the screen playing music videos, and the world seemed to stop for the best 3 minutes of anyone’s life. And then… I got bored… There was no way that I was going to be happy just dancing around in this bar. I was standing next to these guys who were complaining about the lack of ‘hot gurls’. Too drunk to have any sense that these guys were complete idiots, I run over and find Lindsay. We walk back over to where I was standing drink for a while and then she goes back dancing. I turn to the idiots and say, ‘How bout that?’

‘She’s okay, I guess. No Megan Fox, that’s for sure.’

‘Wait… you think you have a chance with someone who looks like Megan Fox?!’

‘Well, not JUST like her.’

‘I can’t wait for you to be alone for the rest of your life.’

And with that, I walked away, thinking that those two were the biggest fools I’ve ever met. Now, I was really bored, so I walked back to my room and listened to my iPod, trying to think of something to entertain myself with. That’s when I realized I was sweating… profusely. I took off everything but my boxer briefs and went for a walk outside. I was wearing bright red boxer briefs a la American Eagle, and walking on the sidewalk jamming on my iPod. That’s when Mouse came out of his bungalow and started laughing at me. He called out Mat saying, “He’d love this. He lives for nudity.” Mat comes out, laughs, and declares that it’s time to go to the bar. I look down and say something about not being let in wearing this. Mouse says that they have no choice. I shrug and agree that it’s one of my favorite activities to force people to look at my nakedness. I walk into the bar and meet up with Tammy and Lauren who laugh, shrug and say that it WOULD be something I’d do. Too true.

After a while, the bar is getting boring, so I meet Lindsay and a friend, John, outside. I talk to them for a time, and other tables are staring at me. At this point, I feel like they’ve al read my blog and agree with my world famous status. Not true. One guy actually calls me over to his table and asks if I want to borrow some shorts. While on this island, my swimsuit was stolen, so immediately I think about getting a free pair of shorts. My thought processes:

1. This is our last night on the island.
2. We leave at 9am
3. There’s no way this guy knows where my room is
4. All my shorts are wet from the rain/hot tub run away
5. But I was pissed when my swimsuit was stolen
6. Do I really need to steal shorts as revenge?
7. How is everyone supposed to see me in underwear if I’m wearing shorts?
8. I don’t want any clothing from this man.

I tell him no, and go back to Lindsay and John who are avidly discussing Parkinson’s. Kinda lame. I buy another pitcher of beer, and realize that I’m much too drunk for this to be healthy. I’m drinking in my underwear for god sake. I finish the pitcher because I don’t waste alcohol, and pass out in my bed.

Day 5.
We woke up, and Tammy and I go to the beach on the first sunny day we’ve had on this trip. We get a coconut from the sand and break it open and drink the milk. Have you ever done that on a tropical island? Doubt it. We got on a yacht, went snorkeling, played the song “I’m on a Boat”, and got really sunburned. Then we got back to the city with the hostel we left our stuff in. 6 people ended up getting robbed of their iPods/Computers. Then a girl fell and needed stitches. We ended up stranded for a time in this town, and we had to get on the bus about 4 hours after we planned on it. This bus driver = a fat idiot who likes to hear himself talk. I hate bus drivers who do NOT shut up. It happened on Fraser Island, and it was happening again here. Only this time, he was extra loud and thought he was hilarious. He kept making bad jokes, and it was making the Boston guys on the bus really aggressive. I started to fear of a riot and murder. At some point, the bus driver sensed that he was 30 seconds and 2 jokes away from getting shot, so he put in a movie. We arrived at our hostel at 2 am, and I couldn’t fall asleep until an hour before we had to wake up the next morning. I’m getting crabbier.

Day 6.
We woke up at 6:30 to go white water rafting. This was easily my favorite day, except for wearing glasses, which I was not allowed to do. We also went cliff jumping off some sweet rocks and junk. After that, we got on the bus to make it the rest of the way to Cairns. Cairns was called the place where we were supposed to get shittiest. It was also our final town of travel. That night, we go out to the bar Woolshed and eat and do indeed get really drunk. I do nothing stupid. Disappointment.

Day 7.
This was our free day to explore the city and buy a bunch of souvenirs. So that’s what I do. Then we went to the bar attached to our hostel. We get dinner and drinks there and pile on the bus to take us Bungee Jumping. We get to AJ Hackett Bungee and find that there is a bar here too. We fill out the paperwork and one of the workers informs us that Vodka RedBulls and Tequila shots are specials and are cheap. We are allowed to be wasted when we bungee. Tammy has one drink and claims to be fearless, wanting to jump that second. I order about 4 RedBull Vodkas, I’ve never enjoyed RedBull, but DAMN. I was drunk and completely energized. Best combo ever. I take off all my clothes but underwear once more and follow Tammy to the top of the tower. We get prepped, and Tammy goes to the edge of the tower before me. She’s trembling. That bitch. Fearless huh? She jumps, screaming the entire way down. Now it’s my turn, and I go to the edge, flip off the camera at the top and jump. Here’s a side note: When I get nervous, my mind reels. I usually do the first thing that I think of and in the instance of jumping off an extremely tall building, I jump feet first. Most Bungee jumpers do some sort of dive, so they end up not whipping around like a rag doll. Not me. BUT, in an effort to make me sound like less of an idiot, there was a list of more extreme jumps that you can do, and going feet first was Ultra-Extreme, which I’m sure makes sense to most people who have ever gotten high on RedBull and jumped off a tower. When I got unhooked from my tether, I looked down. FUCK. I peed a little in my underwear, creating a small dark spot. I needed to get to my jeans, and fast. I snuck past the workers and fellow jumpers and got to my jeans before too much of an incident. I get 3 more RedBull vodkas, and jump off the walls for the rest of the night.

Day 8.
This day, we were going to the Great Barrier Reef. I am not feeling well after 7 vodkas and about 13 glasses of wine that night. The water to and from the reef is especially choppy. I didn’t puke, but I was man down for the majority of this ride. We did go snorkeling and there was an option to go SCUBA diving, but I felt too sick to SCUBA. On the way back to shore, we had all started drinking, and Mat and Mouse announce that it’s time to call out everyone who did stupid shit—they were to be party fouled and owe money that would be used to buy a communal jungle juice batch for our last night. I was called out numerous times, and owed about $36 dollars. I paid 30, and got 10 back because no one would pay as much as I did. We get back and get ready for a bar crawl that night. We meet in our hostel’s bar for the first stop on our crawl. They wrangle everyone together, and I feel the anger bubbling up inside me. I know what’s coming. One of the workers grabs a microphone. God, please, PLEASE save me from this. He puts the microphone up to his mouth and asks, “How’s everybody doing tonight?” Screaming. “That was pitiful, I thought you guys were supposed to be extreme… How are you all doing tonight?!” Louder screaming and a moan from me, because I’ve cut my wrists. Just kidding, but seriously, WHYYYYYYYY?! We go to all of these bars and get free food. I am a glutton this night. I probably ate about 3 large pizzas (36 slices?) and about 5 shots of tequila, 7 beers, and some sort of blue mixed drink. I lose memory at this point, and so did everyone else, so I have no idea what happened. All I know is, I woke up in my bed the next morning.



Day 9.
This was pretty much supposed to be a chill day at the beach. I buy a box of goon and drink and swim for a while. Actually, pretty much all day. I’m so drunk that I’m passing out in weird places including in the water. It’s a miracle I’m alive. I don’t think I ate anything this entire day. That’s ok, the calories from the night before will hold over until next year, so I’ll be fine. We get back to the hostel and I pass out until about an hour before the big goodbye party. I get dressed and start drinking again, and go up to Mouse’s room for the jungle juice. They called it “Elbow” because it’s stronger than a punch. Cute. We go back to the Woolshed like our first night, and they’ve sectioned off a room for us. Waiting for us in there were placemats with our names and a Daquari. We sit there and they hand out award tequila shots to a few people. Then they bring out tons and tons of food. Hot wings, Calamari, Pizzas, Onion rings, pretty much enough food to kill us all. I eat until it hurts. Then I see an advertisement behind the bar. If I order 6 drinks in one night, I get a t-shirt! I’m still drunk from my day of shitshowing, but I’m fairly certain I can handle 6 more. I pick up a punch card and order 2 drinks. I finish them, but slowly. This isn’t working. I promptly go up to the bar and order 4 more. I have 6 punches and a free t-shirt, but I also have no way of carrying 4 drinks at once. I pass them out to friends. I’m benevolent. I get so hammered, so early, and go back to the hostel and pass out in my underwear. At some point, I awake, and walk around my hostel. There is a table of guys from England who laugh at me in my underwear as I walk through the hall. This hall is a dead end, so I have to walk by them again. Dang. I do, and one of them stops me.

“Are you okay?”
“YEA”
“Do you want any help or anything?”
“Where are you from?”
“England”
“hahaha, that is so sad.”
“I can walk you to your room, really, you look like you need help.”
“Look, I’m far beyond help with anything at this point, but seriously, the only reason I’d need help from you is if I wanted tea. You’re useless.”

And it’s true, I’m WAY beyond help.


And so, that concludes my spring break. Who can top it?

My 21st birthday

I'm still writing about spring break, but I can write about this stuff pretty quickly. First, I talked to my mom on her birthday, promising I wouldn't do 21 shots for my own birthday. Only a madman would attempt such a dangerous feat. So I'm a liar, but my mom doesn't like to hear about the stupid shit I do until after I do it, so, mom-- I'm sorry I lied, but it's so much better this way, no? I hope you got sleep on the night of May 1st, my 21st birthday.

April 30- I started off the birthday weekend on Thursday, when Nick Morley, my friend from SigEp/Sydney arrived at the train station. We bullshitted and went into town and he told me about all the faults of Newcastle's scones. We went back to my place and started drinking to Beerfest and he invited a few of his Australian friends over. Turns out, his friends live really close to me, so I'll hang out with them on occasion-- sweet birthday gift from Nick Morley-- New Australian homies. We get pretty drunk and decide it's time to make Jello shots for the party guests tomorrow. Cooking whilst drunk is so much fun. Then we made some sort of ramsackle food for our own dinner and kept drinking. This time to Space Jam. After awhile, all my roommates came down and we watched a few episodes of Family Guy (it was raining, and movies just seemed like the thing) before Nick and I decided to go to the bar. We went to Customs, but it was only 9, and there wasn't even a bartender. So we went to the Brewery, and they had live music playing. We each got a beer and sat at the table. Nick was about to pass out just sitting there. He decided that beer was not for him and got a rum and coke. I'm a chivalrous guy, so I finished his beer for him. The bands that were playing were not really pumping us up, and got really boring, so we left and got drunk food at Harry's Meat Pies. Both Nick and Harry laughed at me when I ordered Mashed Potatoes and Gravy, but seriously-- MEAT PIES ARE GROSS. We went back home and it was 11:30. A half an hour away from me turning 21. We watch another episode of Family Guy and take a shot. He passes out on his bed and I start drunk skyping.

May 1st- We sleep in, go for a run (Nick kicked my ass), skype Adam Schilling and his girlfriend Brittani who take a shot with us, and meet Nick's friend for lunch. We spend the afternoon just chilling out doin what we do, and around 4 o'clock, we go back to my place for the beginning of shots. I started off with the strong shots (Bacardi Limon, vodka, and rum) with the plan that I would take the easier shots later (Slippery Nipple, or the ingredients to a Slippery Nipple). Someone would write the shot and the number of said shot on a piece of paper, and I would have to sign my name after each one. So then at the end, we can look at how craaaazyyyy my handwriting gets when I'm wasted. I already knew this, but everyone got to find out: My handwriting does not change, no matter how drunk I get. What does change are my facial expressions and my vocabulary. Anyway, like I said, I started off with hard shots and occasionally had an easy one. We bought Red Bulls because damn it, I never drink energy drinks, so my tolerance to those things is zero. I had a couple Red Bulls with my shots and I knew I would make it to 21. We were having a potluck, but I didn't eat any food. I knew that would be a disaster. Around shot #17, the people around me were astounded that I was so lucid, but I knew that I was pretty drunk and not going to keep up the facade much longer. However, at shot 18, I began to feel invincible, and Tammy, who promised to keep me alive did a death challenge. She bet me that I couldn't make it to 30 shots. FUCK THAT, I am NOT backing down from that challenge. Here's what happened:

Shot #18- Tam's challenge is on the table, Rob accepts.
Shot #19- A carrot cake is brought out. Everyone is singing at Rob. Rob looks annoyed.
(I don't like singing. Also the Carrot cake was burnt. Kinda cute.)
Shot #20- Another cake is brought out. Rob has no recollection of said cake. There was also a birthday card. Rob reads it for 2 seconds, throws it to the person on his right and says "I'm sure it's nice"
Shot #21- Rob takes it without much acknowledgment until he signs the paper, and then everyone cheers. Whatever, it's not 30

This picture is of me and my 21st shot:


Shot #22- Most memory fades
Shot #23- Rob decides that he can take the worst shot on the table-- the cheapest vodka Australia has to offer. He sips this one.
Shot #24- Rob takes it very slowly and passes out over his chaser. Tammy claims victory. Rob doesn't have the ability to concede.

I'd like to take this moment to say that I did NOT change my shots from strong to light. I took mostly Bacardi Limon (finished 95% of the bottle) and took 4 shots of Slippery Nipple. If I wanted to make it to 30, I probably should have just done Slippery Nipples until they were gone. I still have a lot left.

At this point in the night I was slipping in and out of consciousness and pretty much making a major fool of myself. I eventually threw up into an empty box of Corona, passed out in my living room floor, woke up and took off all my clothes, got cold and put on more clothes, got markered on, and went drunk exploring on my own. Don't worry, they found me in the church parking lot.

I am Pleased...

This night is not really blog worthy after all the other entries that I have, but since I haven’t written anything stupid in awhile, I’ll just give you a somewhat entertaining entry.

It was Wednesday, April 8th and the sun had just broken through the clouds after a week of gloom. I decided to go for a walk down to Fletcher park and et the sun warm me AND MY T-SHIRT HOODIE up. When I was walking back to the house, I was alone for far too long with my thoughts, and began to crave some alcohol. I now have a school schedule that makes me go to campus on Tuesday and Thursday, making drinking every night a definite possibility. When I got home, I went out to the patio and asked Phil if he was getting hammered tonight. He replied that he was going to start drinking at that moment. It was 5:00. I was impressed. I decided to use some of my limited self control and hold off the drinking until 6:00. It was a rough hour.

Because Phil and I have penises, we were completely dressed and ready for the bar at 6:10, so we did our usual wait-for-the-girls routine of playing a few games of War. I am pleased. The way to make War into a drinking game is simple. Every time someone loses a same-card war, they must drink. We play a couple games when Phil realizes that he has locked himself and Cameron out of their apartment. They now must break in via screened window. I watch with slight amusement, and Jamie, now ready, comes out and we play War.

Around 7:00, everyone is ready and has a drink. I am half-wasted. Phil is completely tanked. I think his exact words were: “Muddafuckin shit-tanked.” He was supposed to go meet other ISU girls for pre-game, but he was too drunk to do anything but drink more. We’ve all been there. Tammy complains that she needs a game that will get her wasted. I broke out the game that Bob, my roommate from last year, used on me on my birthday. It’s called the Rob Birthday Game. It is not fun. Tam does well at first, but then owes a bunch of drinks. She is muddafuckin shit-tanked. Never ask to play the Rob Birthday Game.

We start playing Circle of Death, just like in New Zealand. We have a rule that when one draws a 5, they have snake eyes. Anyone who looks this person in the eye owes one drink. For some cruel reason, it’s always a girl who picks this card. And for some awesome reason, God made girls have boobs. Phil and I (yes, boobs are awesome, even to the gays) stare into their cleavage and as a little bit of fun, name them. The girls have ultimately become their boob’s bodies. Tammy’s are named Baby Blue and Maggie May. Jamie’s are named Mary Kate and Ashley—Phil is not creative. Lauren’s are named Sunshine Starla and Bountiful Bonnie. Tammy decides to name my testicles. The left one is named Prince Charming. The right is Prince Handsome. I am pleased.

Also during this game, the song Soulja Boy comes on. Cameron captures all of us doing the dance with his video camera. Folks, before the video leaks onto the internet, I’d like to say this disclaimer: I do not know the Soulja Boy. I claim to know it, and do indeed know about 3 of the moves. When you see this video, you will see 5 very drunk people do this dance, but you will see 1 of those 5 stare at the other people, furiously trying to learn it. I am that 1.

At some point, I declare to myself that everyone needs a hug this night, and it becomes my mission to force my hugs upon everyone. Some are not pleased. I am VERY pleased. We go to Customs bar, and I order my usual—2 beers. I somehow collect an astounding amount of change every week, so I paid for these with a handful of change. The bartenders are usually pissed and annoyed when I do this. This bartender laughs, takes the change and tells me to go away. I am pleased. Tammy orders 2 beers also, but realizes she is too drunk to finish one, let alone two. Rob’s Birthday Game—nuff said. I finish the beers and clinch the final hug from Phil. He is resistant. I get the hiccups. DAMN.

Tammy and I decide to leave. We are both muddafuckinshittanked. We decide to go get Harry’s Meat Pies. Meat Pies are gross, but they serve Mashed potatoes and gravy too. Tammy orders Mashed Potatoes with extra gravy, and when she gets it, she spills her dish all over the ordering counter. I order the same thing, and grab tissues to hide her mess. She also grabs tissues and pats the counter with them. Visual: 2 REALLY drunk people trying to hide gravy that was spilled directly in front of the guy behind the counter. He tells us to stop. I get my dish and pour gravy into Tammy’s. I don’t really like gravy, and she was bereft. She tells me she loves me. I am pleased.

We make it home and I promptly start drunk-facebooking. It’s a terrible habit. End of night.

I leave on Saturday for Spring break. We’re doing something called extreme adventures and the people we talked to told us to be prepared for the drunkest week of our life. I am intrigued and doubtful. Australia has never heard of Rob Barger’s VEISHEA adventures.

Things that are Different in Australia that I find hilarious.

So, it's been awhile since I've done something really stupid whilst drunk, I will write a semi-boring segment about differences between Australia and the United States.

To make me an automatic liar, I'm starting off with a similarity... Australians constantly make fun of America, and claim to never want to be like an American. They only say this because I'm positive that they really are just wannabe Americans. I have evidence. As many of my closest friends and relatives know about me, I love Christmas. When we were in New Zealand, one town had their Christmas decorations still up. There were santas, snowflakes, sleighs, the works. When I went on a wine tour in Australia's Hunter Valley, I came by a 365 day Christmas store. There was a Santa that I posed with for a picture. Now, I'm a crap writer and I'm sure that many of you are now confused, but here's the kicker. It is Summer in Australia and New Zealand on December 25th, Christmas Day. There's no snow, sleigh, and Santa should want to be in shorts because it averages about 100 degrees most Christmases. United States does not OWN Christmas, but it's pretty obvious that Australia and New Zealand are just copying everything America does. EAT IT, OZ.

Now I'm probably just going to list things:

-Cottage cheese in Australia is not normal. It is a solid tub of white gunk and no liquid. It reminds me of the consistency of rice pudding.

-College students are loathed by everyone who isn't one. Being a student is not something you want well known.

-There are no pennies, and if something costs $2.97, it will be rounded to $2.95. There are also not $1 bills, but there are $1 and $2 coins.

-The fact that I even need to state this makes me think that no one who studied abroad in Australia has any common sense besides myself: Subway does NOT have $5 footlongs. There's something called foreign exchange that makes Subway have to up the price to $7 footlongs. Idiots.

-I take a train to school instead of a bus. I'm a city-livin boy.

-Australians are blunt, and I love that, but they are also blatantly racist. I hate that.

-Those who are at the brunt of the racism (asians and backs) take it out on white males that walk alone at night. I've been told about 5000 times not to walk alone or even in a group of 2 or 3.

-Aluminum cans are non-existent.

-They spell and pronounce Aluminum, "Aluminium"

-Liquor is about $50 to $70 a bottle. For a Liter.

-The cheapest beer is $36 for a 24 pack. Of bottles of course.

-Wine comes cheap. About $15 for a 5 Liter Box.

Okay, that's all I got right now. I promise I'll do something real stupid soon. Be on the lookout for a video of myself to hit facebook. I got absolutely hammered one night, blacked out all memory, and got a 20 minute video of myself taken by my loving roommates. Let's just say that the inside jokes of the dance 'The Worm', BREAD, and Taylor Swift will soon make sense to the world. I'm embarrassed of my video, but it gives the world a little taste of how crazy I can be.