You know what I think is the saddest thing about the whole Schappelle Corby thing, and the fall-out from the verdict? I mean, other than the fact that as I type she's probably being impregnanted by eleven simian Indo prison guards. But ever since the (unpredictable, mind) GUILTY! verdict was read, I keep hearing people say "oh, let's boycott Bali!" and "I'm cancelling my dream holiday to Bali". I've got something to say to all of you cunts:

WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING ANYWAY? BALI IS SUDDENLY A DREAM HOLIDAY SPOT? FUCKING HELL! IT'S STILL CUNTING INDONESIA! GOD!!!! "Oh yes, I'd really love a side of HIV, dysentery, and fake Louis Vuitton luggage with my DREAM HOLIDAY please!" Eyeroll.

You people needed a court case to make you realise what a disgusting place Bali is? Sheesh. Get some imagination or something. I feel more sorry for the losers who save up for ten years to visit some squalid island wedged between butt-fuck and plebtown than I do for Schapelle. And hello, most of it was exploded a couple of years ago, so I don't see the huge attraction. Oh yeah, I underestimate the cheapness of the Australian public. Sigh.

But back to more important things, like me. What a cool weekend! Much drunkenness and merriment. Friday night was spent catching up with some friends I haven't seen for a while which was cool. And then of course was the meeting of Monsieur G. I unfortunately didn't get to talk to him that long, but it was good while it lasted I suppose. I wish I got a camera-phone picture of us or something, so I could undrunkedly compare and contrast any similarities between us, but from what I remember I don't think we look all that similar. I mean, his hair is a bit longer, and has highlights in it, and was meticulously straightened to his Farrah-flip. And speaking non-follicley, he has a super pointy-assed jaw and weird horse teeth. I think my features are a bit more squared, much in the way of a dapper 1920s playboy... or something. I don't know. But I certainly would not be caught dead wearing a sloppy grey hoodie out and about town. For shame, G. For shame.

As for the rest of the weekend, it was spent in a similar manner (ie, drunk), only instead of Andrew G I was with Cap Guy and his friends on Saturday, and then on Sunday night it was with Cap Guy and his parents at their penthouse. I got some crippling diarrhoea between the main course and dessert, but other than that it was a very enjoyable evening! But seriously, if you are ever in the need for a nice bowel cleanse, enjoy a diet of nothing but alcohol and tapas for two days, then eat something with a creamy sauce... phew. And gross.

But now I should be doing my assignments but I can't really be bothered. So I've been putting that stuff off by lying around in the perfect Queensland Autumn weather (not too hot, nice bite to the air, lots of sun) and reading The Da Vinci Code which... yes, how embarrassing shut up. But I thought I should get it over with, and it sounded exactly like my favourite video game of all time Gabriel Knight III: Blood of the Sacred, Blood of the Damned which... yes SHUT UP. Hmm, this post isn't going very well. But yeah. The book is an okay way to spend a few hours I suppose. Although as for the "codes"... please. If I, who struggles with word-searches that go on a diagonal, can crack the "ingenious" codes with barely a thought ("uhm, 'apple' much?", or my favourite: "it's written backwards, fo'!"), I find it difficult to believe that a French cryptographer and Harvard dude could fanny about with it for so long. Sigh.

Aren't I the literary blogger! But anyway. I should get back to my assignments. Or look for a job. Although Oprah is on in an hour... I think I'll take a quick bath before that. Or maybe I'll finally get around to doing my old Ask Dawei's (well, all two of them). Stupid procrastination.

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posted by Dawei at 12:00 pm