Back when I was drunk and gainfully employed as a writer for porn rag The Picture, it wasn't uncommon for me to appear in many of the magazine's photo shoots. No, I didn't get my dick out or anything (it wouldn't really make sense, unless they gave away magnifying glasses with every copy), but I … Continue reading Tales from Pornland: Barber shops and Brothels
Drunk and Jobless is one of the most popular blogs on the planet - right up there with Dustin Diamond's personal page and the one dedicated to pictures of Magda Szubanski in a bikini - and my legions of fans have stumbled upon this den of debauchery through various means. Most from reading about it … Continue reading My readers are perverts – and I love them for it!
When I was a kid, I spent many memorable days (and a few boring ones) at Old Sydney Town. For those who aren’t familiar with it, Old Sydney Town was a theme park that accurately recreated the early settlement of Sydney, with historically-correct buildings, dudes dressed as convicts and more angry cannons than a Sasha … Continue reading I didn’t break into Old Sydney Town, but a very handsome friend of mine did
With no job to go to, girlfriend to annoy, or pet to feed to prevent it from dying, this week I went bush for a couple of days. I packed my tent and my sleeping bag and headed up to Mangrove Mountain, west of Gosford, where I found a 24km hiking track that was beautiful, … Continue reading Camping with the convicts
I wouldn't normally go to Sydney even if somewhere down there was offering free beer and half price strippers, but I made an exception this week - to hike 27km from Berowra to Brooklyn. Alright, so it was the northern outskirts of the city and I didn't go anywhere near congested streets or idiots in … Continue reading One Sleep Till Brooklyn
If I was to make a list of ways I'd like to spend a Saturday morning, climbing up a 600m cliff with a 15km pack on my back probably wouldn't make it on there. But that's just what I did a couple of days ago, when I travelled to Lake St. Clair, north of Singleton, … Continue reading Paramagliding from the mountain of death
When I was a kid, me and my mates would spend most weekends exploring the National Parks around the Central Coast; camping, climbing trees, swimming in water holes, all that good stuff. Then we grew up and less important things like work and girls got in the way, and life got sanitary and boring. I … Continue reading The Wondabyne Years
I'm back from a week of paragliding around Camden Haven on the Mid North Coast of New South Wales, and the world seems a lot more boring than it did from 500 metres above the ground. I'm not stuck in an office or anything stupid like that, but flying has burrowed under my skin like … Continue reading We were so in phase in our paragliding days
Four months ago, I stood at the top of Middle Brother Mountain, 550 metres above the ground, with a paraglider strapped to my arms and a little bit of scare-wee dribbling down my leg. My friends were already on the ground, celebrating their first high flight. I ran at the cliff, heart pumping and mind … Continue reading Conquering the Middle Brother
I’ve been to a lot of National Parks around Gosford and the Central Coast, but I’ve never been to Wyrrabalong. And you know what they say - if you’ve never been to Wyrrabalong, you haven’t lived and probably have a small penis. Not wanting to be accused of either (but having been accused of the … Continue reading Wandering around Wyrrabalong
The Drunk and Jobless World Tour 