Break it down - Stop. Blogger Time.

Somewhat quiet on the blog front.. however I have been busy little bee finally getting my tour on and treating Australian fellow DUNT flatmate B-Dawg to a cheeky little jaunt to Rotorua (a.k.a THE Rotovegas).



The t shirt says it all really - come to a town which is a blatant charade of a far more popular place and hitch a ride on the Souvenir Crappola Band Wagon.. oh and you'll pay $60 for the privilege of sniffing sulphuric stench rivalling six teenage boys and a case of baked beans and damn well like it.

To be honest I preferred the t shirt B-Dawg ACTUALLY wore that day which was stolen from dear Brother J - it keeps the ladies a lookin and the lads a wonderin....












One thing that struck me as the Blue Toaster cruised its way in comfort on the Southern Motorway (conviently named State Highway 1 - of 1, for the tourists of course) was the Mohair Craft Barn. Not because when set free from the restraints of the Nike Sweatshop I like to fantasize about random retail establishments but mainly because they are a solid part of any North Island Road Trip.




Craft barns in theory I get. Granted I don't finish 1.00pm 4.45pm drinks on a Friday and run gagging for signature pieces in Che Pretentious Latte brown but there is most certainly a time and place for purchasing mama some sweet new seats. However I find it hard to believe that this time would be at the commencement of a road trip requiring you to stop at the BP Service Stop. EVERY major service stop has the Mohair lined up next to dirty old McD's and BK.

Sure they may be surrounded by various bovine but those barns are no more country than my left nipple, so I can only assume one of two things:

- For some unknown reason people are actually purchasing items and due to supply and demand (struggle back to 4th form economics Miss Blog) they are a profitable business (likely story)

- The somewhat lesser known New Zealand mafia has stocks in Mohair Craft Barn Ltd and is using the business as a smoke screen to launder drug money (far more likely - probably... or maybe there's a correlation in my watching the entire 5th season of The Sopranos recently..)

But was that the highlight of the trip? you may be shocked but not dismayed to find that it was indeed not for we had bigger farce fish to fry. Imagine my delight when we passed a bus load of Asian tourists dipping their feet in the "famous" thermally heated foot baths and discovered their well meaning (read: sadistic) tour guide merrily handing out plastic wine glasses.. oh no.. oh indeed yes...

These tourists are now going to go home with high tales of the "Maori Indians" who cleanse their troubles by drinking sulphuric hobo pee foot water.. I didn't have the heart to pause and shatter their little dreams.. that and the gangs that frequent the park were looking at B-Dawg and I with more than just a healthy "check out those biatches" attitude..



FOOTNOTE: (excuse the pun) - On my blog notes I have scribbled "Can Fat Teens Hunt?" "Buy 1 x pig for DUNT" - I'm pretty sure I was referencing the tv show but it could have just been an overzealous shopping list. Either way it just promises good times for the next blog!