Lyndon in London

Arriving in the city for which my parents named me after... or was the city named after me.... anyway I can't help but feel a loving affection for it. As a child I've always dreamt of living in Europe, hanging out with my english uncs. They own a restraunt on Shaftsbury Ave called the Mayflower. At one point it was the most popular chinese resteraunt in London, something like 2-3 hour waiting times, and people waited. A few of you have had the pleasure of eating there, and anybody who wants just let me know, and I promise you wont have to wait 2 hours for me to turn up. Beautiful food, I guarantee.

At this point it is pertinent that you should meet my travel bitch. May I present to you the ever so stylish, light saber weilding, oestrogen over loaded, sister lovin', big spending, greek god who's idea of a long relationsship is anything over 3 months. Please meet Gregorious Grigoriou, or better known as: Graz the Cunning Listener.

With only a brief hiatus, we decided morph into backpacker mode and head off. With the idea of having a mind blowing experience before we started working proffesionally again, we decided to head to Belgium and Holland. With the promise of chocolate, beer, cafe and scantily clad women hanging out in glass cages, we really couldn't say no. So we didn't.

Little Miss Shop-over

Blowing in to Hong Kong usually result in my luggage gaining about 36kg of weight, mainly in the form of clothing and interestingly useless items that those crazy Honkies dream up of. But since my bags were already brimmed, not even doggy porn made it on the list. The main reason was to visit family anywy, which I did. I also managed to fit in a trip to Macao where they offer lots of free nibblies on the street. Unfortunately, my uncle no longer owns his horse, which I was very fond of because it had the fantastic name of Team Happy, so the races were out. Oh I did take advantage of HK's tax free setting and bought a Bad Monkey.

The Lead Up

How did Lyndon end up half way across the other world in the land of Ire? To answer this profound and introspective question I guess we have to look a little retrospectively.

About 4 months ago it was decided that my life had come to some point of overwhelming stagnation and that it was time to leave the beautiful, always perfect weather of Perth. To celebrate this, a small, exclusive, invite-only gathering was held at my always transient residence of Subi. Here many a blood alcohol level did rise. Gin was flavour of the month and hence started the slow degeneration of co-ordinated neuronal synapsing. Soon lil' Sars was taking random crotch shots and drunky funky Sars deciding to drive (against medical advice) straight into a booze bus but somehow pulled off a miraculous 0.00.... She was so proud.

On arrival to Bris-vegas, I was met with what can only be descibed as a situation crisis, invloving pretty much everything dear to me. A project, appealing to the venture capitalistic hemisphere of my brain, did emerge. From the firey re-union of Lyndon and Trosticles did emerge an immaculate conception in the form of Frucao. Joke : What do a lawyer and doctor do after they finish their tedious uni degrees? Answer: They give it all up to sell ice cream at the povo flea markets. Yep that's right, I became an ice-creamereer. Well it's not really ice cream. After much struggling to explain to our customers exactly what it was we were selling, we decided that Frucao was a non-carcinogenic, very healthy, refreshing medium between ice cream and sorbet. Kind of like snow, but creamy. For all our hard work, our first day of trading yeilded a net profit of $90, which worked out to be about $1 an hour for each of us. Anyway, it was fun. You actually become quite poopular as an ice creamerer, and honestly don't I look good as one?

Other things done

1. Gave thanks to the beer dieties with one Australia's leading men's shoe designers.

See the shoes at http://www.veinwear.com

2. Befriended a russian

3. Attended group therapy

4. Became a yokel

Finally before we depart from Brisbane, I should probably introduce you to one of my new infatuations. I picked her up at a store in Perth and introduced her to my parents. She was considered a rarity in our world, one in three hundred. For what really could only be described in song, our relationship was intense as it was short lived and eventually I had to disconnect. I left her locked up in a little black box, the pieces of which will be picked up another day. A picture, so you may see her in all her glory.

As I was sardining what I considered to myself as bare essential clothing into the biggest rolling suitacase available, I couldn't help but think just how homeless I was. That's not to say that I'm a vagrant, but in the last 18 months I've moved 7 times, involving just as many houses, 3 cities and 2 countries. My earthly pssesions, friends and family scattered everywhere. For some stupid reason, I keep up-rooting myself and starting again. Stupid, stupid me.

The Lead In...

Welcome!! To my spanking new, here by popular demand blog spot. Following in the foot steps of the famous PABLO member Will I Am, I will endovour to fill you in on various aspects of my doings from the other side of the world. I hope that you find what I spew forth from my random mind mildly funny, moderately interesting and highly arousing (intellectually). So, as I sit here on my new highly uncomfortable fire retardant couch, listening to semi-depressive anger filled muse-ic, sipping cheap (but surprising good) chillian vino and left by all to my own devices, not only did I come to the epiphone that I was drinking by myself on a friday night but also that it was time to get this blog underway. To all those that actually go further than look at the pretty pictures and actually read what my random mind spews forth onto this blog I thank you and I am honoured that you have taken the time to do so. Cookie?