As unlikely as it sounds, there was logic behind my decision to partake in an outback Australian tent fight. There’s usually logic behind the decisions I make, albeit often convincingly disguised as recklessness or folly.
It started back in Melbourne.
The cozy interior of the Rollerdoor cafe.
It was the day before I left for Queensland. I was saying bye to the folks at Rollerdoor Cafe, our back courtyard neighbors. While there a gent, hearing I was leaving and knowing I was a fighter, mentioned the tent. At this point it was just a comment, a legend. “I hear they have this traveling boxing tent up in Queensland where fighters will take on anyone who wants to challenge them for cash.” How delightfully old school. How fucking outback. But shit like that didn’t still actuallyexist.
I love starting my day with a bit of optimism. Enter this wonderful Colbert Report segment entitled People Destroying America which a number of sites have dubbed ‘perhaps the single best segment‘ to ever air on the show.
image via Gawker.com
If you have to watch just one part, hit up 6:51. It’s a big tall glass of YES.
I’m starting to see examples of this sort of heart-warming ‘small town’ tolerance more and more, both online and in meat space. Country folk get a bad rep for being close-minded but, for my money, I think that’s got a lot less to do with being inherently small-minded and way more to do with a simple lack of exposure (I know, not exactly a mind-blowing observation. Whaaat? You need to have positive exposure to something to view it in a positive light? Whoa). But seriously, we miss this point a lot. Continue reading →
I’m a big fan of small business. I’m also a big fan of a good gut laugh. Given that my Friday (which was already going pretty fucking well to be honest) concluded with both these things, I was a pretty big fan of it as well.
The George, an independent cinema in the heart of St. Kilda (that would be in Melbourne for non. . .Melbournians) has recently reopened. Vicky, the mate with whom I am currently staying (who clearly has her finger firmly on the fidgety pulse of the neighborhood she calls home), suggested we check them out in all their opening night glory.
The movie they’d decided to open their doors with was an Australian documentary entitled Cosmic Psychos: Blokes You Can Trust (perhaps unsurprisingly, it is about a band called the Cosmic Psychos).
It was inevitable. I’ve been out bush for over 5 months so I have 5 months of humorous/thought-provoking/heart-warming shared links/comics/videos to catch up on. And if I ever claimed to not have a (very strong) streak of meme dork going through me I’d be lying through my goddamn teeth. It took me almost 2 days of travel to get back to Melbourne (the rail system, she is not speedy) and expecting to pop up off my mate’s sofa bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the very next morning to IMMEDIATELY START ALL THE THINGS would be. . .well, idiotically naive to the point of delusional, really.
Or will be shortly. And by shortly I mean in a week. ish.
Because I seem to have a horseshoe wrapped in four leaf clovers stuck up my arse as of late, I’ve decided to post the following message, which I’d usually reserve for a Facebook status, below. Because, hey, some awesome Aussie employer could just happen to be googling ‘Kayak Sex‘ (I don’t judge) and just happen to stumble upon this message and be all like ‘Aw, this chick seems awesome. Ima totally going to offer her this awesome job with very respectable pay in a conveniently located neighborhood, the perks of which just happen to involve free rent in this awesome flat above said workplace‘.
Additional photos (19 of ’em, to be exact) have been added to the photo essay ‘Mellish in May‘. The pictures are largely of baby piglets, and cattle nomming the shit out of some lick.
I was, for no particular reason, in a poor mood today. Looking at photos of adorable/hilarious aminals proved to be a good task choice. Hopefully their tiny snouts and satisfied faces bring a bit of joy to your day as well.
The 19 photos added are from Mellish Park Cattle Station in North Queensland, Australia. Taken throughout May, 2013.
Allow me to share with you a terrible, wonderful recipe. It comes all the way from the magical island of Newfoundland.
The recipe is as follows:
1 – Make bread dough
2 – Instead of allowing it to fulfill its life purpose by baking/rising in the oven, instead beat the shit out of it. Then fry it in pork fat.
3 – Because life is too short, top this delicious monstrosity with products that are either 80% fat, or sugar or both. Molasses is classic. Butter is also an option.
It happened because: 1 – I am a chatty bitch and 2 – It was the second Thursday of the month.
The greater part of the muster was done and Al and Bev had some friends they wanted to visit in the South. But ‘The Oldies’, as Eth and Eileen are affectionately called, wouldn’t be joining them. In their late 80’s and 90’s respectively, the gals understandably need a bit of help and looking after. Bev usually takes care of this, and asked if I could fill in for her.
I was reluctant in the sense that it makes me nervous to be responsible for the well being and safety of someone else (likely because I frequently fail to maintain my own). Continue reading →
Bonus non-awesome thing: barbed wire. That shit is like pointy velcro, just waiting to rip clothes and remove hair. Whenever I’m tightening a length on a fence I keep waiting for it to snap and gut me. I will never do another barbed wire tattoo IN MY LIFE.
Because balance is desirous in(almost)all things, as a compliment to Thursday’s post might I present the following five ‘less awesome things’ about living out in, as the locals say, ‘woop woop’: Continue reading →