Memories.....

My godmother, Ann, just showed me some photos of when I was merely an even more insignificant speck on the Planet Earth (i.e a baby) and my first thought was: 'Did I ever not have hair?'. Every photo, giant head of fluffy black hair. Maybe it was there to disguise my poorly developed skull, or something.

Things have been a little quiet lately because Mike and I are planning on a getaway to Bali for a few days. It's really cheap to go there from WA and it's meant to have to some terrific dive spots. Ironically, it's cheaper to go overseas than it is to travel within the confines of WA itself. Boo to that.

Mike-astophe update : One mug, smashed. Insists on wearing giant sun hat that proclaims 'Australia' in tasteful yellow lettering.

I think I may have mentioned this before but a working holiday visa is a strange half way place. If you're rich, then you can discard the working part, probably with a lot of disdain as only the wealthy can. But if you're moderately poor, then you're in an odd, desert like place with random trips as oases and palm trees, and casual work as your water supply.

I went drinking with a friend in a Belgian Beer Cafe and one of the barmen had the nerve - NERVE! - to say that Irish beer is crap. He called it 'bland and same-old'. After I had finished punching him to death, I drank a giant pint of Stella in celebration. It would be criminal to not drink Belgian beer in a Belgian bar.