Hey people of many nations,Welcome to my fine emporium of words...Please sit down,Relax,Take a load off...You know it did occur to me today that no-one is really paying attention to my blog at all so I've decided to just start making stuff up, maybe if I created a big enough tissue of lies then someone will blow their nose in it (wow that was a metaphor that made no sense).Without further ado (why not, I like ado),I give you:
FAKE STORIES ABOUT DOC'S TRIPThe other day I visited a place called "Zimzan", the king of Zimzan is this little berber man with white hair and a wooden leg (he painted it gold to fool tourists). Anyhow the king would put on a giant festival in your honor if you could guess what his name was. Intrigued I set about finding a way to learn the king's name, he was berber so logic dictated (bad logic, very bad!) that I should learn his name from a berber. So there I was, the middle of the desert, not a drop of water in sight... I was doomed, I resigned myself to a twisted fate when all of a sudden a jeep pulled up with three berber men inside. They remarked something in french or berber (I couldn't really tell, I dont speak either french or berber), to which I replied "Sorry but I dont speak either french or berber". "Englishman!" they cheered, I followed up with "Australian, but close enough". "What the f**k are you doing in the middle of the f**king desert" one of them questioned me. "I'm trying to find out the king of Zimzan's name" I answered him. "That's easy, his name is Jeff. Want a ride back to town?". "Shit yeah!" I jumped in the jeep. "Where you guys going to?" I asked of the man beside me as the jeep took off. "We're just getting some supplies for the party" he smiled back at me. "Cool, is this some sort of traditional berber thing?". "Nah, its a desert rave... this man up front is a DJ... DJ Yssup". "Nice!" I replied. We pulled up at the grocer (which from the amount of dialog that has just passed would have been about 300 meters away from where they picked me up), and the men got out and bought their party supplies- bottles of water, strobe lights, whistles etc, etc...After that I ended up going to the desert rave, and king Jeff bitter at having his name discovered by a tourist abdicated his throne to me. So thats the story about how I went to see DJ Yssup play a set and was made king of a small but flourishing berber kingdom.I hope you all enjoyed this completely fictional tale about my journey, see you next time on:FAKE STORIES ABOUT DOC'S TRIPdoc.PS- "Yssup" spells "pussy" backwards, just thought I would throw that one in for you.
Here's a recap on all the things i've gotten up to:In cronological order from when I got off the plane in Praha:Straight after I got off the plane I met a Czech/Australian guy named Stan. We went on a pub crawl that night and I got hammered on Bozkov rum, when Stan left for an hour he came back and found me curled up on the floor in the pub asleep! I reminded Stan of his late best friend so he showed me around Praha and took me to see Adrspach in the mountains (very nice but if you go take a Czech phrasebook). We parted ways and I headed to Wein (where I bought my nice hat), then Venezia and then Firenze where I met Michi. After hanging around Firenze and meeting an old friend Simone (who I have much admiration for musically), i went to Roma. I made my way from Roma to Bari where I met my new girlfriend Mayuko (Japanese girl), and we spent a week in Dubrovnik, which was fantastic. We both went separate ways in Split, and on the bus from Split to Zagreb I met Rajko. We got drunk. For 3 days I was drunk (a new and possibly unbreakable record for me) and I tried to ride a lifesize plastic horse in Novi Sad, just ask the locals. I ended up staying in Rajko's room in Kovilj (Serbia) for a month (Rajko went back to work in Hvar that sunday feeling a wee bit sick from all the drinking... poor bastard!). During that month I went to see Matt of Concord Dawn work his black magic with my man Djole. Me and Nenad (Rajko's brother) went to see a football game, but we didnt make it- his Yugo ran out of gas and we ended up pushing it to the nearest gas station. And Nenad took me to a work party where I saw this really good Macadonian guitarist and got drunk because of the open bar (I can never turn back a free drink). After Serbia I went back to Italy and then stayed in Padova with my friend Michi and met up with Mayuko in Venezia for a day. Then I stayed in Firenze with Simone and we went to see Messer Chups play (how about that great bassist girl!), and after Firenze I went to Roma and spent the night in Ciampino airport. The next day I flew to Luton (London) and spent another night in an airport :(. In the morning I caught a flight to Marrakesh and met Mayuko at the airport. We spent another week together and then she went back to Japan. I went south to Laayoune and caught a charter flight to Las Palmas, where I got slightly beaten by some punk junkies upon my arrival (hurray!).Another looooooooong trip via bus and plane and I'm back in Marrakesh, typing this into a computer... so that's it! I missed out on a few stories but that is basically my trip thus far... any suggestions on what I should do in the next couple of days before I go to Graz to stay with my friend Misha?1). Cover myself in chocolate and run naked through the main square shouting out "I'm a candy bar, I'm a candy bar!".2). Read the entire collective works of Charles Dickens translated into arabic.or3). Go out into the desert with nothing but beach shorts and a towel and ask "Where's the surf at?" in french to everyone I see.Its your choice lads... If you come up with another suggestion feel free to leave it.doc.
Welcome to Las Palmas de Gran Canarias,My welcoming commitee consisted of 3 junkies who wanted nothing more than everything I had of value on me. I wish I could say that I did something clever when one of them attacked me but I just yelled out "What are you doing?!?!"... what was he doing? he was punching and kicking me until I stopped moving so he could take my stuff... he didnt understand a word of english anyhow, so there was even less point to what I yelled. I pulled a Forrest Gump after a slight beating, and even though I was carrying about 15 kilos on my back those stupid junkies couldn't keep up with me... too much smack in their system! besides the fact that a person will always run much faster when they know they're in danger, its adrenaline baby. And after all that I did feel a kind of frightened fight club rush, but I would gladly pass on the opportunity again should I see it.anyhow, more updates later... i've found an online zookeeper game, bye!doc.
Well, well, well...No comments eh? you guys are getting sloppy now... as fizz mentioned- I had comments coming in on a regular basis and then I asked if anyone can pick me up from the airport and then: BLLLLIIIFFF! 8 years went past before the next comment... what happened? did you guys suddenly get interesting lives, or is my blog too boring? before you answer that bear in mind I would prefer sweet lies to the harsh reality of things...Anyway, I'm sick of Morocco... no alcohol, and the landscape is like inland Australia (there's even gum trees everywhere!)... I feel like I escaped the heat of Australia for the heat of Morocco...Screw you guys- I'm going to the canary islands!doc.PS- there is no God. sorry to break it to you this way.
What up,
So today is going to be the last time I update the blog in a week or so. Just wondering if you guys have reading the blog. I hope you have because I'm going to test your blog knowledge... ready: 1. Who in one of the more recent blogs was trying to communicate from a distant planet? 2. What fruit best describes Europe in Doc's humble opinion? 3. Which drink did Doc consume vast amounts of in Serbia? 4. What career path was Doc contemplating in Morocco? and one last question; 5. What did Doc describe as having "More wisdom than a pub full of irish-men"?
Remember I will be grading you on your answers... the first one who answers them correctly gets a prize of random value, so get to it!
That aside i've been writing an epic poem with all this free time on my hands (now that my girl has headed back home)... i've finished the first 30 pages in my notebook, but I'm not sure if I should publish it on my old blog or this one (because I did write it during my travels it counts as a valid entry, but a long one!)... anyhow get cracking on the answers... you must leave them in the comments for this post to qualify, ciao,
doc.
PS- Doc reserves the right to keep the prize for himself after an undisclosed amount of time. All entries not awarded a prize will carry on over to the next competition: Doc's 1,000,000.00 dollar cash grab from the bank robbery competition.
Hello peoples of earth!This is Zarlor of the planet Nimbux 5, and I am communicating to you through some puny earthling post. We Nimbuxion's are a friendly people. We enjoy many things a billion times more complex than your puny earth minds can imagine. For instance- we enjoy go....Sorry about that folks... having problems with Zarlor posting on my blog again, DAMN YOU ZARLOR!!!Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know that i've bought one of those annoying snake charmer flutes that you hear in the background of the movies set in the middle east... and I want to learn how to play it when I get back to australia, MUHAHAHAHAHAHA... haha...And i've been trying to decide if I should go to senegal or east to algeria, or re-book my flight home, or follow a career path in snake charming in morocco... imagine it, i'll be famous! the first white guy snake charmer! imagine the tours, from north africa to the middle east, and all the groupies I would get!So let me know what you think, and at least read the last couple of posts- they're completely not pertinent to your lives in any way, shape or form, its brilliant!doc.PS- PS is the meaning to life.
Long time no post you say?Well I did make a post in Firenze but for some reason -unknown to me!- it posted online and then vanished without a trace... t'was a fine post that was lost that day, with more wisdom than a pub full of irish-men... rest in peace fine post.That disaster aside I've made it to Marrakesh in one piece and let me say one thing- it is tough here, people dart in and out of alleys on tiny motorbikes and vendors hock their wares with precision and experience... I figured I might have some upper-hand from years of retail experience but it's all for naught in this crazy land... one example is that when you enter a shop and give a price to them you must expect them to times it by four, then they will dwindle that down to double your asking price, and then when you head for the exit they act defeated start wrapping the item and you end up paying one and a half times what you wanted to pay... yep, they have old whitey down pat over here. It's even worse if you're Japanese like my girl Mayuko, they have her paying four times what I would pay for something! And they dont budge an iota on the price when she walks out, which leaves me to buying her things by myself, the second they see her their eyes light up and I know that we're going to get bent over on the price!But Morocco it seems is not that much cheaper than eastern europe, disappointing considering I had a place to stay in Serbia for as long as I wanted... maybe i'll make a dash to west africa when the woman heads back to Japan in four days... who knows what i'll do next?That wasn't a rhetorical question... get back to me on that one lads...And I want to hear how things are back home, give me three minutes of your life because I give you half an hour... it's a fair trade!doc.PS- I have some cool postcards to send, if you want one you have to leave me some funny comment to read.
