A couple of hundred K out of Wellington, halfway to Wanganui, lies the sleepy hamlet of Bulls. Yes, you heard me right. Bulls is a small place, claustrophobically so, the kind of place where you might initially receive a warm welcome before finding yourself mysteriously disappeared and reduced to cutlets on the town barbecue, soaked in special sauce. Maybe you might be the next donor to the mayor's special Belt of Nipples. Who knows?
We didn't stop, only passed through. But the fun of Bulls comes in spotting the pun-based japery the good townsfolk have indulged in to pass the long, lonely days out there in the middle of fuck all. To whit:
On the town gift shop: Collecta-bull.
On the police station: Consta-bull.
On the local branch of Subway: Submersi-bull.
And my personal favourite, the church: Forgiva-bull.
And many more. You've got to admire a town prepared to extract that much mileage from a pun, the dedication required to really get the most out of that sucker. Bulls, I salute you. From a safe distance, because Christ knows I'm not stopping there.
Wednesday 28 May 2008
Monday 26 May 2008
Working For The Man
If there's anyone still out there, listen up. I'll have to be brief because I'm at work and surely can't have long before they come for me, with dogs and searchlights and lengths of rubber hose. Here's a summary of what's what.
1) I work for a bank, in an office. Strange, you might say, that I've travelled 11,000 miles to do exactly the same thing as I was doing at home but a brother's gotta eat, gotta pay the rent and that's all there is to it. There is, however, a strong possibility that I'm going to Hell. I dare say I'll see you there.
2) I spent last weekend in Wanganui (pronounced Wonga-nooey) and hereby declare it to be the Stourbridge of New Zealand. I was up doing the meet-the girlfriend's-parents thing, and very nice it was too.
3) Have now settled in to my new flat. My room smells of feet.
4) It's pissing down with rain. Apparently my life is destined to be eked out in perpetual winter. Am thinking of turning Goth.
5) My net access has been severely restricted, hence the lack of updates. but rest assured, my people: I'm still having a wicked time.
I can hear the snarling of Rottweilers and the clomp of jackbooted feet so I'll sign off. But keep reading. I'm still here!
1) I work for a bank, in an office. Strange, you might say, that I've travelled 11,000 miles to do exactly the same thing as I was doing at home but a brother's gotta eat, gotta pay the rent and that's all there is to it. There is, however, a strong possibility that I'm going to Hell. I dare say I'll see you there.
2) I spent last weekend in Wanganui (pronounced Wonga-nooey) and hereby declare it to be the Stourbridge of New Zealand. I was up doing the meet-the girlfriend's-parents thing, and very nice it was too.
3) Have now settled in to my new flat. My room smells of feet.
4) It's pissing down with rain. Apparently my life is destined to be eked out in perpetual winter. Am thinking of turning Goth.
5) My net access has been severely restricted, hence the lack of updates. but rest assured, my people: I'm still having a wicked time.
I can hear the snarling of Rottweilers and the clomp of jackbooted feet so I'll sign off. But keep reading. I'm still here!
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