I forgot that I had this site. I also forgot that it was possible to spend over two hours a day on the internet. Somedays I forgot to even go on the internet. Then, this morning I woke to find that my closest friends were no longer in Cairns.

Basically (Aussies love that term), over the last two weeks I have met up with Lauren (my girlfriend from England, well via Melbourne), Jodie - her and my mate, Izzy - one of my best mates from home, Ben - a cool dude and numerous other people I'd be proud to call friends. I had a great few weeks in a hazy bubble of happiness. Now everyone has left Cairns, and I haven't, I'm faced with meeting more new people and people I generally did not spend time with (to spend time with previously mentioned mates).

I'm bored, skint, well that's about it, horny as fuck but I won't ponder on that too long, and I have nothing to do. Ah well, internet games, such timewasting joy!

After another long drought of updates I thought I better get my ass in gear and start writing again. I've been pretty short of money for the last two/three weeks and money is the root of all blogs. Well, it cost money to surf (I hate that term!) the internet, and now it doesn't. My new hostel has free access, oh yeah, I've moved up to Cairns as well.

I don't know whether to write about Cairns yet, I've been here just over a day and haven't seen much so I don't think I have decent grounds to form an opinion yet. I could write about my flight up here, but that would be boring.

Likewise I could write about getting drunk on cheap wine, "goon" as us backpackers affectionately call it, that would be somewhat cliché. I guess I'll just write about having nothing to write about. A personal favourite of mine. It's about 25 degrees celcius, cloudy, muggy (I love that word) and I've got a sore stomach from the wine last night. I also don't feel like thinking, I've also run out of time on the computer, and for today's rambling irrelevent blog I'll have to say good bye.

I'm bored.

I've been in Melbourne for nigh on two and a half months, I've lived in the same hostel, been to the same pubs, seen lots of bands and now I want to move on. Not to mention the fact that I'm working a depressing but meaningful job (I am an advocate for a chairty) and my girlfriend has left town, there are endless movies on the tv here, I can't get five minutes to myself, or five minutes with anyone that'll make me feel better. I'm homesick but not sick for home, I just guess I've got itchy feet. That or I've just been smoking too much.

Good job I get paid on Wednesday. I don't care whether I get fired, (I'm not a great salesman), I've decided that I'm leaving at the end of the week, I just don't know where to. I've found living in hostels with no money a very boring and lonely experience. If you have money you can drink and talk bollocks to people, I don't. Plus I don't feel like talking bollocks anymore. I want to sit in the sun, surf, smoke pot and play guitar on a sunset filled beach. I know that's the rose-tinted view of things, but to be honest anything is better than a cold, miserable city, with cold miserable people who don't have time for the environment.

The next blog will hopefully posted from the warm east coast of Australia, I expect there will be no trams but that won't ruin my time. Trams are starting to piss me off to be honest, well public transport as a whole, commuting if you would. I hate travelling to and from work, I'm sure I'm not alone. Fuck, I never thought I'd be in a position where I'd be bitching about daily life like this. I'm dissapointed in myself.

No more of this madness, I need a sunny beach and warm tanned girls. Yes, that sounds good.

While in the process of thinking about what to write about in today's blog I decided to type 'tramspotting' into google (the search engine, not my cat which has the same name. I don't really have a cat called google, but what fun it would be to have such named cat!) Dissapointingly this site is not in its list.

However, as pure luck would have it, whilst thinking of what to write in this paragraph I stumbled on to this site:

http://www.thefa.com/Grassroots/GrassRootsNews/Postings/2003/01/35684.htm

A news story from the Football Association's website. Something to do with a man trying to reach the cross-bar at football grounds, not important, but his name Mr. Tram is somewhat relevant, anyway.

If you would like to open a new browser and look at the page I would like you to divert your gaze to the picture (you can read the highly interesting story afterward). The caption reads:

'"Tram" the hopper behind the wheel of his Blackpool tram'

I never thought once after coming up with the name of this site that I would actually gain any skill in tramspotting however I will divulge. The tram in the picture is not a Blackpool tram, it happens to be a City Circle Tram (a free to ride tram!) that circulates Melbourne, the yellow coloured building in the back-ground is Flinder's Street Station, one of the finest pieces of Victorian architecture in Melbourne. The city I am living in. Pure lazy journalism. Shocking.

I never thought I would find such coincidental circumstances, I'll have to email the F.A. and inform them of this vile act of lazy journalism

I was just wandering how to get noticed by the admins at blogger.com, so I thought by writing this is may get some attention. Not that I want attention, just popularity, but I'll pretend that I don't want it when I've got it so I don't sound like I want to be popular, just that I am.

Where was I?

Well, I thought I'd write today about today. I've finished my job as kitchen monkey at La Porchetta (apperently a large franchise) pizza restaurant. It was shit, I must say. also feel inclined to mention that a company of its size (over 100 restaurants in Australia, and expanding to NZ, Japan and the USA) shouldn't be paying it's lower employees (any for that case) cash in hand and scamming the tax-man.

I know that all big companies tend to scam the tax-man, why almost all major multi-national corporations have a scam going, and the scam known as the United States of America has been well documented over the years. Sorry for that rant but I need to vent sometimes.

If there's anyone out there reading this and gives two shits (and works for the Australian Tax Office), please let me know (I won't give you my email, you'll probably know it already, "Big Brother IS Watching"). I wouldn't mind a few dollars for whistle-blowing (if you can call it that, more logic I think) I could do with some cash to see this country.

So if this has got any attention, from anyone, let me know, I need attention!

It's been (another) while since my last blog, the connection to the internet at the hostel has gone and it's taken me until now to be bothered to find an internet cafe. Stupid library won't let me use they're computers for blogging, bastards.

Anyway, back to the point.

I've found the break from blogging over the last week quite useful to be honest, I am a fan of breaks, tea breaks, toilet breaks, cigarette breaks, if I sound like a slacker, that's because I am. I also think that today's slack generation ("generation x" as they used to call it) get a bad reputation for being slack. I mean, if there was anything worth working for I'm sure (some of us) would put in a little more effort.

It's dawned on me that's it's been over ten years since the first publication of "Generation X" (by Douglas Coupland, read it if you haven't) and the themes and ideas that run through the story still seem true to life in the twenty-first century world. Twenty-somethings are working McJobs for minimum wage (at least it's good in perspective to sweat-shop work and child labour) and have absolutely no goals or ambition. That is except to drive to secluded areas, sit around, talk and smoke tremendous amounts of cigarettes. Now we can't even afford an education to get the well paid job to leave behind for luxurious life of generation x.

I don't really know where I'm going with this, it's all off the top of my head which could be a good or bad thing. But it seems to me that society has cut out the middle man of education, to leave us as un-intelligent socialites. Well, at least I'll have a McJob when I'm seventy.

I thought I'd use today's blog to whine about what a pickle I'm in regarding my stay in Australia.

I've got three months until my return (but I can extend it until the end of October) to blighty, I have hardly any money, and I've only seen Sydney, Byron Bay and Melbourne. What the bloody hell do I do? (Sorry for sounding so English). I need to work more, that's obvious, but I've got no idea where to go should I get the money saved.

Ah bollocks, I'm going to end up picking fruit!

Sorry for such a dire blog, I've been smoking a bit of green and mind isn't in a productive frame of mind. I really should sit down and write when I've got something to write. Never mind, maybe I'll think of something at work.

I thought for today's entry (of a blog that is, not the penetration of anything into anything else, well, not right now, I'm sat in an internet cafe), I'd give a little background as to who am I, hopefully it will help make more sense of my writings.

I'm a twenty year old, British backpacker in Australia (I know there's hundreds of us). I've had a go at university and thought it was a bit crap (well, the place not the course, I won't be going to Stoke-on-Trent in a hurry again, a common point of view apparently). I've settled for working mind numbing, spirit crushing low paid jobs to fund my travels, and finally (after a good ten years) I think I've decided what I want to do in life.

Write.

This blog then, as I see it, is a sort of practice ground. I've noticed that practicing doesn't quite make perfect, but it does improve (I've been playing the guitar for eight years and now I can play somewhat more than "baa baa black sheep"). This blog is also something of a retreat for me from everything else, pouring my mind onto a website that I know no more than about half-a-dozen people are going to read is relaxing and therapeutic.

I've now just got to decide what to do with my life when I go back home to (what my parents call) 'the real world' (as apposed to the one I'm living in now, where the sky is made of honey, trees sing lullabies, hunger does not exist, but hamburgers eat people). Do I decide to continue on my course of mundane jobs and travelling (I'd like to go to India sometime), or do I study, amass a huge debt and work shitty jobs, while educating myself on my chosen career and learning a little more (what more can I learn?! well I guess I've learnt a few things while travelling) about myself.

I do miss the realm of ridiculously cheap beer that is Union bars, it's a bloody rip-off out here!

No big blog today, it's my day off, well it was and now I've been collared into going to work tonight. Bastards. Anyway, I'm low on funds and a night at work, and not at the bar would be a great financial feat.

It'll be more amusing tomorrow. Well, I can't see how it could be any less amusing.

"It's been a while since my last confession father", or rather my last blog in this case. I have been hard at work (slaving over dirty dishes and pots and pans), that's correct kids, I am living the high-life as a dishwasher or as they call it in Australia a 'Kitchen-Hand'. The name is somewhat misleading as it gives the impression that there maybe some sort of moral reward for helping work-"mates". I suppose the moments of silence between random and unnecessary bollockings are pleasant.

I've always thought that I spend too much time thinking, this generally happens when I'm working, eating, drinking or talking, I'd guess about 90% of my day. Sometimes you can see my brain at work by seeing the tip of my tongue edging out of the corner of my mouth. However, I've found that I only usually think about trivial things.

"Do you ever think there will be a boy born who could swim as fast as a shark" or "If a tiger entered the office, could you defend yourself with a biro?" The fine words of Gareth from the BBC's The Office.

Anyway, as work got busier I realised that I'd have to stop thinking to get on with my job. I put aside my mullings on what to write about in my next blog, started whistling "The Final Countdown" by Europe and carried on with my rewarding, minimum wage, tax free (don't tell anyone, I work for a big company) job. I find it rather bemusing that with absolutely no mental effort I am providing casual employment. I've come across this a number of times, I'll quote a conversation (or argument as it was) with a previous employer.

Boss: "Why haven't you got any ....? [memory evades me of said product]
Me: "I didn't think we'd need any, it's been pretty quiet"
Boss: "I don't pay you to think"

This situation has been running through my head ever since it happened, I think it's somewhat paradoxical (is that a word? It is now). 1, My boss apperently didn't pay me to think. 2, I thought that the missing item was not required. 3, I also didn't think that at the same time. 4, My boss was acting like a twat.

Now, was I in trouble for not thinking, when not thinking was something I was supposed to do? Or was the fault the act of not thinking, something I was supposed to do?

In hindsight, I think that I think about thinking to much. So hopefully, next time I'm thinking my brain will be at ease and not be thinking said thoughts.

Have you ever noticed how good breasts are?

Well, I did have a days writing from the old site that I was going to put on here, continuity and that sort of thing, but being an idiot I deleted it. So enjoy a new effort which I wrote the other night...

I'm sat in the common room of the hostel (McMahons, Melbourne, a fine establishment, used to be a brothel/strip-club apperently), after failing to get to sleep I've reasoned that a writing session would be more productive. As fate would have it done, to put me off (almost instantly) some lads from Cornwall (my home county) have just started up conversation, now I know why libraries are useful. I've been in Australia for so long, the Cornish accent seems somewhat amusing again (I haven't heard a good one for years up until now). This is basically because in my home town of Newquay nobody has a Cornish accent. I realise how to the un-informed ear may confuse such a beautiful accent for one of of a drunk, slow and slurred. I feel slighty homesick. And wanting of a beer.

I thought I'd write today, well this morning of the disadvantages of staying up all night drinking tea, smoking cigarettes and talking [the previous and deleted post was written about the joys of socialising late night talking sessions].

It's 2.30am, I feel absolutely no need for sleep, admittedly I haven't been to work today/yesterday (it's my day off, I'm not the type to pull sickies, it's career suicide in catering) so I've only been awake for eleven hours and of these eleven hours I've done fuck all.

I hate sleep deprevation, I've been a bad sleeper for a good ten years now, stemming from a love of live sports in the middle of the night (did you see how I didn't directly associate myself with North American sports? Clever eh?) it has grown into one of my worst habbits. Smoking, I can quit if I choose to (and I have done before, pier pressure, that should be campaigned against) I can happily go days without drinking (I know that's a split-infinitive, like Star Trek 'boldly going', I'm educated you know, I got a bloody A Level in English!!! Excuse my ironic superiority, I only managed a D).

This deprived state of mind also incures rambling writing in writers (or maybe that's just me?) which pretty much seals the deal (bollocks, I'm writing with cliches now!). All night social sessions seem to be pretty damned good things

He's Alive!!! Mwah ha ha ha!

This site is officially online, yes it looks shit but I don't have time to spend on making a good looking site (it costs money people!). So browse, and I'll try to write on here every day in a diary style exhibition of my life and musings. But I've got this far today and now I'm tired and need a cigarette, plus I can't afford to waste time telling about this site. You've got eyes! Well, at least I suppose you do, you'd be wasting you're time trying to read this if you didn't (have eyes that is) and I don't know anyone without eyes and the chances of someone with no eyes, stumbling onto a website about a complete stranger (and trying to read it) are rather long.

Back tomorrow hopefully