And that is how I know,
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you,
There’ll be Nobody Home …
Howzit?Ha-ha, tricked ya!
You’ve got a recording. I’m not actually here at the moment.
I’m actually here:
Well, that’s not quite true.
That’s a picture of a Perth sunset that I took earlier in the year. But, if you can imagine the same sunshine stuff at Surfer’s Paradise on the complete opposite side of Australia, then that’s where I’ll be.
And I know, you’re all going, “but isn’t it pretty much winter in the Southern Hemisphere?”. Well, a Gold Coast winter is like a New Zealand summer. It’s all good, and you don’t have all the crowds you get in the summer time.
And, within hours of arrival, I will be brown. My people do that.
I should be back on June 7. If I feel like it.
Some of you have been asking “But how can we live without you, D-Man?”
I know. But I’ll be thinking of you all while I’m ploughing through the duty free booze and lying on the beach. Oh damn, I’ve just remembered we’re taking the kid, so I guess I’ll have to share some of the duty free with her. But not the Baileys! That’s all mine!
I’ve just posted this really, really, really long poem, which I wrote in London after a drunken night out. It’s based on a true story. Just like the rest of my life…
It’s the entry before this one. It’s complete shite, but if you start now you should be finished in 10 days time, and then I’ll be back with tales of sun and surf. Well, I’d better bloody be. Otherwise I’ll be back with tales of Goddamn, Life Sucks.
My final Kung Fu Speak Week gem:A humble man knows when to keep his mouth shut. But I am not That Man, so “Ha, ha! I’m on holiday, and you’re not!”.
