I love Australia, and I love being Australian. The refugee-cuddling diesel dykes who stalk the piss-stained alleyways of Newtown might tell you that’s a bad thing, but it’s not, it’s something I’m proud of. So, as I prepare to spend more than two months rolling through Europe, I must admit that I’m going to miss my country.
This time tomorrow I’ll be winging my way to Riga, Latvia, so I’ve spent the last few days loading up on a bit of Australia. On Thursday night I went to see the legendary Kevin Bloody Wilson live in concert at the Davistown RSL, and it was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. With my brother and father along for the ride, we rocked out to classics like D.I.L.L.I.G.A.F., It Was Over and Living Next Door To Alan.
In short, it was a fucking awesome concert. Kev was in fine form as he warbled his way through politically-incorrect ditties that would make greenies, pooftahs and towel-heads shit themselves with offence. Not only is Kev a brilliant performer who is able to keep his audience enraptured for hours with little more than a guitar and a smirk, but he’s also one of the few blokes who isn’t afraid to piss of a few softcocks.
Of course, Kev is best enjoyed with an alcoholic beverage or 20, and that’s just what we did. While beer is probably the drink of choice for a balls-to-the-wall concert like this, it was wine that we went with… and lots of it. Enough wine, in fact, that I don’t remember the end of the concert, only waking up under a pile of pillows in the corner of a dark room, feeling like a rhinoceros had been headbutting me in my sleep.
Today, I backed it up with a trip to the footy to watch the Sydney Roosters play the New Zealand Warriors at Grahame Park, Gosford – just down the road from where I live. It’s a ground I played rugby league at as a kid, and the best footy ground in the world, as far as I’m concerned. These days rugby league is largely banned from being played there due to the mayor of Gosford being the former coach of the local soccer team (and a complete cunt – honestly, Lawrie McKinna, shove a pack of razor blades up your arsehole, you prick), so today’s match will be the only one this year.
The Warriors won a match the quality of a Chinese condom, but it didn’t matter. It’s just good to sit in stands and watch the footy with thousands of other fans. I had my dad and my friends there with me, along with a few beers, and it was an awesome way to say farewell to Australia for a while.
Well, except for when a fat Warriors fan spilled his drink on my crotch, and a small child pointed at me and said I’d wet myself. That bit wasn’t good at all.
In a few hours I leave on the Drunk and Jobless World Tour of Northern and Eastern Europe, a journey that will take me through weird places like Bosnia and Serbia, where the people speak – and probably smell – funny. I’ll be blogging every single day to let you know where I am, what I’m doing, and who I’m doing. Hold on, it’s gonna be a helluva ride!
The Drunk and Jobless World Tour 